A few mishaps here and there
Well, my phone broke. As in, it died and went to cell phone heaven. See, for the past few weeks, it’s been rebooting over and over and OVER again. All… the… time. It would reboot when I would try to make a call, answer a call, and even in the middle of a call. And when it rebooted, it would be on a roll and reboot before it even finished rebooting- sometimes up to 8 or 9x in a row. Paul took it apart and discovered the power switch was broken. In other words, my phone thought the power switch was constantly being pressed, triggering it to reboot.
It drove me CRAZY!
So the other day, I had the baby in one arm and he was screaming his little heart out. I picked up my phone to check my text messages and it started rebooting. Over and over and over again. I had enough, so I threw it down on my pillow. My pillow. Let me reiterate that one more time: I threw it down on my PILLOW. And apparently, I have a magic pillow that only appears to be soft and comfortable, but it’s all a lie. It apparently is made of cold, angry steel that only forms when phones are thrown at it because my pillow cracked my screen.
Nope, I’m not joking. The screen is compleltely ruined. And since my phone is password protected, I cant enter in my password since the screen’s broken. That means that I can’t hook it up to the computer and grab all my pictures and videos off it. All the pictures and videos of John from birth until now.
I can’t get a new phone yet because our contract isn’t up until right around Christmas time. I’m hoping when we get new phones, Paul can put his screen on the phone he has now (which is the same phone I had) on my broken phone so I can retrieve my pictures. For now, I’ve had to go back to using and old Razr phone. IT SUCKS! Seriously! It’s a “dumb phone” (as opposed to a smart phone) so I can’t surf the web, the picture quality is crap, and it’s a big ole flip phone. I feel like I’m back in 2002 again! Don’t get me wrong, I’m thankful I had it on hand so that I can at least still talk and text (using my thumbs since it only has one of those numeric keypads), but it’s super annoying and hard to get used to after having a smart phone for so long.
I know, I know. First world problems, huh?
Lesson learned: Don’t throw phones because apparently even soft surfaces can be deceptive!
I’m just hoping to get all my pictures off it. Those are all I have of sweet John.
We had a scare with baby John the other day. I had him strapped into his bouncy and needed to tell Paul something. I walked from the living room, through the kitchen, and out onto the back deck. I wasn’t away from the baby for more than a minute when Nathan came running to the back door. Nathan didn’t even need to say anything; he opened the sliding glass door and the look of panic on his face said it all. We could hear the baby screaming through the open door, so I ran inside and Nathan kept crying that he was so sorry.
I darted into the living room and could hear the screaming. I saw the bouncy was unbuckled but John wasn’t in it! In my panic, I yelled to Paul that I couldn’t find him. And then I saw him on the other side of the cofee table, laying on his back, screaming while he flailed his little arms and legs in the air. I quickly scooped him up and brought him to my chest. He didn’t have a mark on him. No red marks, no bruises, nothing. Thankfully!
So here’s basically what happened: Since the baby was a little fussy, Nathan wanted to help him feel better. He’s seen me and Paul move John from the bouncy to the Bumbo seat, so Nathan thought he would do the same thing. Only before Nathan could get the baby to the Bumbo seat, John slowly slipped out of his arms and landed on his bottom. Then he fell backwards and his head hit the floor. Not hard enough to cause damage (thank God) but enough to piss him off and make him cry.
Nathan didn’t get into any trouble for this. Not only because did he not do this out of maliciousness, but he did the BEST thing by IMMEDIATELY coming to tell us. He didn’t shut down. He didn’t ingore the baby or try to cover up what he did. He didn’t try to quiet the baby to keep from gettting into trouble. He immediately ran to get me and Paul. The panic he felt at possibly hurting his brother completely overrode any fear of getting into trouble himself.
Nathan’s only four, and that’s HUGE. This shows me that Nathan has empathy and places other’s needs above his own.
So Paul took Nathan into his room, sat him down, and explained why he can never, ever pick up the baby unless Mommy and Daddy are there to help. Nathan bawled his little eyes out and then came into the living room to hug his brother and tell him how sorry he was. It took me a while for my legs to quit shaking and for the blood to travel back to my head. That scared me half to death. Hearing my baby cry, not seeing him, and imagining something awful like a broken bone or blood everywhere.
This all happened a few days ago, and Nathan still talks about how he’s sorry he dropped his baby brother. He’s trying to make up for it by giving John lots of love. He’s even been carrying John to bed- with my help, of course. I walk behind Nathan with my hands under John’s arms while Nathan holds the baby close to his chest.
I’m sure that in the forseeable future, there will be many more episodes of one of the boys getting hurt by the other. The life of brothers!
Well. My car’s done. I was driving on the Interstate near Knoxville when my oil light started flickering. Since it was just flickering, my dumb ass thought I would be able to make it home so I could put more oil in it there. But then, my car started making a clicking noise and then the oil light came on and stayed on. I was on the phone with my brother who told me to pull over immediately. I didn’t want to pull over on the shoulder of the Interstate; I wanted to make it to the next exit. However, right at that time, I heard a bunch of clanking noises coming from under the hood and noticed a bad smell right as my engine shut off as I was still driving. I immediately put my car in neutral and since I wasn’t in the far left lane and I wasn’t speeding, I was able to coast over to the shoulder without getting hit.
Have you ever pulled onto the shoulder of a busy Interstate? It’s nerve-wracking! People were flying past me, and my car rocked and swayed with each passing vehicle. I told my brother I was feeling really uncomfortable, so he looked up the number for TDoT (Tennessee Department of Transportation) so I could call them to see if they could at least park a truck behind me. As I was on the phone with him, I was nearly hit by two separate idiots. Both vehicles crossed over the white line and the rumble strip and missed me by inches. Let me tell you, my heart dropped into my stomach because I could see them coming right at me in my rear view mirror, and I had John in the car with me.
Right after that, after I had only been sitting there a couple of minutes and before I had a chance to call, a TDoT truck pulled up behind me. I was so thankful because he used his truck to push my car to a safer area where I was less likely to be hit. I called my husband who came down to help until the tow truck arrived. Once we got my car home, Paul checked out my car and said that it looked like the valve cover gasket blew and there was oil on my spark plugs. And my engine is definitely locked up; it wouldn’t budge when he tried to manually turn it over.
So it looks like I’m going to have to get another car. Which would have been great had it been a couple years from now. Bad timing right now with a new baby and a new house, but such is life, right? At least we don’t live out in the middle of nowhere any more. And maybe in a few months, I’ll find a nice little car that’s not expensive. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
So yesterday as I was walking around the house, I managed to twist my ankle. Don’t ask how I did that just by walking. I tend to be prone to clumsiness somehow! Anyway, it hurt like the dickens so I said, “OUCH!” as white pain shot up my leg.
“You okay, Mommy?” Nathan asked from his room. My sweet boy is always concerned about others getting hurt.
“Yeah, I’m ok. I just hurt my ankle.”
“Hurt dee ankle?” he asked.
“Yep,” I said as I lifted my leg and pointed to my ankle. “I twisted it somehow and now it hurts.”
“I kiss it and make it allllllllllllllllll better?” he said, worried.
“Aw yeah that would help a lot,” I replied as I hobbled over to him.
He gave my ankle a kiss, patted it gently, and said, “There! All better Mommy!”
And sure enough, it was.