You Say It's Your Birthday....

Last night I went to girl's night out for MOPS. It was a small group, but lots of fun. The waitress happened to walk by as we were talking about my birthday. The waitress stopped cold in her tracks, "it's your birthday?” "Oh no, no" I say. I had already seen the poor wait staff barking out their birthday tune to some other unfortunate soul. I thought this had ended it, but thanks to the plotting of my good friend and the waitress, that I shouldn't have tipped, I was also subjected to the embarrassment. As the wait staff came out of the kitchen clapping I looked at my dining partners and said "thank God today isn't my birthday". The next thing I know they were coming to my table. I tried not to make eye contact, but they still came. I hated having to sing when I waited tables and as much as I like to be the center of attention I do not appreciate being pointed at!

The rest of our dinner conversation centered on our children. All of the girls that were there had boys so we shared war stories about our kids’ injuries. It reminded me of a story from when Jack was a baby:

In all of the parenting classes they say don't put your baby on the counter in their carrier. When I was being told that I thought to myself "what kind of idiot would do that?" Well, I answered my own question...me! When Jack was about four months old, I was working full time, I would bring him home from daycare and sit him on the counter while I cooked dinner. He was happy being up by the action rather than playing by himself. I thought I would make him a little more comfortable by unbuckling him. Who knew he would choose that moment to start moving? I was turned toward the stove talking to Travis on the phone as he drove home from work. I heard a loud splat. In a split second I turned and saw Jack face down on the floor. I said "Oh shit" and hung up the phone. I scooped Jack up as quickly as I could. I know this was the wrong thing to do. He could have had a spinal cord injury from a fall like that. In actuality, the only injury Jack received from his fall was a small scratch on his neck from my fingernail when I picked him up with such haste. I got out the flashlight and checked to make sure his eyes dilated and pushed on all of his little bones. Meanwhile, Travis had heard the splat over the phone and didn't know what had happened. He was in rush hour traffic, but he didn't let that stop him. He took the shoulder and the ditches home at high speeds. No, he wasn't driving an SUV; he was driving his little Audi. By the time I called Travis back to tell him what had happened and that Jack was okay he was pulling into the neighborhood in his damaged car. The undercarriage of his car was all torn up from his stuntman driving. He actually went back to one of the ditches to pick up pieces of his car. But, the good news was that Jack was okay and the car could be fixed! When Travis got home I called the pediatrician and admitted to the on call nurse what I had allowed to happen to my poor baby. The nurse asked, "Does he have anything coming out of his ears, nose or mouth?" Are you kidding me? Do you think I would be calling the doctor if something were coming out of his ears? No, I would be driving to the ER or calling 911! After going through a barrage of questions the nurse and I decided that he was fine and we should just keep an eye on him. A solution I have used many times since!