Youngest Baby inhaled a marker lid. Orange. I had seen him walking around with a marker, he loves holding things like markers, sticks, spatulas, they are like little souvenirs from his adventures in tagging along with his older siblings. All of a sudden he was vomiting. And I knew exactly what was lodged in his airway. I flipped him face down, slammed his back, nothing came out but more vomit and it was obvious no air was getting in.
Real choking is almost silent. If someone has food go down the wrong pipe, or water threatened the vicinity of the airway and they are coughing and gasping, take note: they can breathe, their throat is just overreacting and slamming them on the back is annoying and unhelpful. When an airway is blocked, especially for a baby, there is no sound. It looks very different. That is why they say the universal choking sign is hands because people, they can't freaking make a sound so they need a sign.
If I hadn't seen it, who knows what might have happened. If he had been in another room instead of walking towards me, it's almost unthinkable.
I ask the big kids (Big! Ha! ages 5 and 3 count as 'big' around here) to put the bleeping crayons and markers away about eight times a day, because they get them out eight times a day. They love to draw and color. And the babies love to dump the bins of art supplies. We live in an unbabyproofable situation, even when I try and try and yell and clean and yell and try again. The only way I can go on sometimes is to hope God wants my kids alive and will thus fill in the gaps, send guardian angels and protect them in moments when I fail.
Brady was indeed choking, and the stupid orange lid wasn't coming out. The babysitter Liz walked in as it unfolded, and four hands are better than two, so as I continued to baby Heimlich, she reached in, did a deep sweep, pincher fingers grasped a slippery lid that could have gone down even deeper but didn't, and she pulled it out.
I was about five seconds from calling to Samantha to dial 911.
He is fine. It took about 14 hours for my adrenaline to go down.
Just in time for Tsega to flee our front door while the excellent aforementioned sitter was cleaning up an epic poopy diaper upstairs. He was found by two people in the middle of the street, who promptly called the cops. Who called social services.
Tsega is fine. We are fine. The babysitter has been reassured that she is not at fault and frankly, had he been hurt, it still would not make it her fault. It could have happened to me -- OK, it has. Middle of the street. The person didn't call the cops that time though. Tsega is a a smart little Houdini as my FB friends know because I often poll for new ideas on how to contain him.
DSS may open a file on us. That day, the fear of social workers lit a fire under my butt to clean a few piles that hadn't been touched in months. The counter top graveyard of excessive and endlessly beeping smoke and carbon monoxide detectors was raided, new batteries installed, put up in a frenzy of mother bear terror. Hubs commented jokingly that my motivation to impress a government entity was disheartening, and why didn't I clean with such fervor all the time? I replied matter-of-factly You will love me no matter what. CPS will not.
Last night, right before bed, Brady cut himself enough to bleed through a few band aids. I have no idea how. He was in my presence while it happened and I still cannot find anything that could have given him the gash. It bled long enough to make me wonder if I was gonna have to go to the ER, which is tied with the DMV for places I never want to spend time ever. Facebook advice, medical tape, gauze and time to clot took care of the problem. But as Phil from Modern Family intoned: John Philip Sousa! this week was rough.
Dangerous encounters and police interrogations set on a backdrop of copious sass, backtalk tantrums and unsurprisingly shoddy eating habits from just about all of us (well, unsurprising from me as I spent a lot of time eating cookie dough in a feckless effort to force down the feelings of panic.) I am gonna go ahead and give this week a D+.
Real choking is almost silent. If someone has food go down the wrong pipe, or water threatened the vicinity of the airway and they are coughing and gasping, take note: they can breathe, their throat is just overreacting and slamming them on the back is annoying and unhelpful. When an airway is blocked, especially for a baby, there is no sound. It looks very different. That is why they say the universal choking sign is hands because people, they can't freaking make a sound so they need a sign.
If I hadn't seen it, who knows what might have happened. If he had been in another room instead of walking towards me, it's almost unthinkable.
I ask the big kids (Big! Ha! ages 5 and 3 count as 'big' around here) to put the bleeping crayons and markers away about eight times a day, because they get them out eight times a day. They love to draw and color. And the babies love to dump the bins of art supplies. We live in an unbabyproofable situation, even when I try and try and yell and clean and yell and try again. The only way I can go on sometimes is to hope God wants my kids alive and will thus fill in the gaps, send guardian angels and protect them in moments when I fail.
Brady was indeed choking, and the stupid orange lid wasn't coming out. The babysitter Liz walked in as it unfolded, and four hands are better than two, so as I continued to baby Heimlich, she reached in, did a deep sweep, pincher fingers grasped a slippery lid that could have gone down even deeper but didn't, and she pulled it out.
I was about five seconds from calling to Samantha to dial 911.
He is fine. It took about 14 hours for my adrenaline to go down.
Just in time for Tsega to flee our front door while the excellent aforementioned sitter was cleaning up an epic poopy diaper upstairs. He was found by two people in the middle of the street, who promptly called the cops. Who called social services.
Tsega is fine. We are fine. The babysitter has been reassured that she is not at fault and frankly, had he been hurt, it still would not make it her fault. It could have happened to me -- OK, it has. Middle of the street. The person didn't call the cops that time though. Tsega is a a smart little Houdini as my FB friends know because I often poll for new ideas on how to contain him.
DSS may open a file on us. That day, the fear of social workers lit a fire under my butt to clean a few piles that hadn't been touched in months. The counter top graveyard of excessive and endlessly beeping smoke and carbon monoxide detectors was raided, new batteries installed, put up in a frenzy of mother bear terror. Hubs commented jokingly that my motivation to impress a government entity was disheartening, and why didn't I clean with such fervor all the time? I replied matter-of-factly You will love me no matter what. CPS will not.
Last night, right before bed, Brady cut himself enough to bleed through a few band aids. I have no idea how. He was in my presence while it happened and I still cannot find anything that could have given him the gash. It bled long enough to make me wonder if I was gonna have to go to the ER, which is tied with the DMV for places I never want to spend time ever. Facebook advice, medical tape, gauze and time to clot took care of the problem. But as Phil from Modern Family intoned: John Philip Sousa! this week was rough.
Dangerous encounters and police interrogations set on a backdrop of copious sass, backtalk tantrums and unsurprisingly shoddy eating habits from just about all of us (well, unsurprising from me as I spent a lot of time eating cookie dough in a feckless effort to force down the feelings of panic.) I am gonna go ahead and give this week a D+.
23 comments:
Hugs.
I love you. You are great. Truly.
(And I have little doubt that Samantha would've performed some miraculous manuever on little babe and saved they day if momma and liz hand't gotten there first)
holy moly that is terrible.
Oh my word what a week. You deserve a gallon of cookie dough--topped with ice cream hot fudge and caramel.
my adrenaline was up just reading this. So sorry!
oh my goodness, so glad everyone is okay and safe! It happens... this wonderful chaos we know as life. I feel like we are living such similar lives. I would definitely eat the aforementioned cookie dough with you and we could lock ourselves in a room and hope our kids weren't destroying anything too badly. hang in there - you sound like a good Mama, the daily hurdles make you stronger.
I am so sorry! What is with the little kids and all the things they put in their mouths?!? Though we are thanking our lucky stars that the quarter did NOT go down the wind pipe. Slender fingers with the fetching of the the marker cap is quite impressive. So thankful!
As far as escapes, we have those here at our house as well. Though thankfully, I realized he was gone before strangers found him in the street. I called the police in hysterics and I'm pretty sure they closed the file that was opened with my statement, which was given after they questioned the stranger who found/saw him finishing his stroll around the block. We promptly installed flap locks. Though Tsega might not be fooled by them, however having them would buy you some extra time while you could possibly hear the scraping on the floor...
HATE weeks like this. I'll pray for you.
Geez! Hope your weekend is waaay better than that! So glad everyone is ok!
Oh, wow. What a stressful week! I am glad that all of your sweet little people are okay and that it's over. You deserve whatever stress reliever (cookie dough, whipped cream squirted directly from the can into your mouth, etc.) that your heart desires. I hope that the weekend is peaceful and that next week is an A, or a B+ at the minimum.
That is one intense week!!
Hoping that the next one is MUCH less stressful!
A D+ sounds generous. I hope next week is much better.
So sorry for the crappy week! I'll stick you in my prayers over the weekend! :)
One time I went upstairs to change a load of laundry (you know, 90 seconds) and I came back down to find Pickle with the strings from the blinds tangled around his neck, tightly and he was about to fall off the window seat. I still cry when I think about "what if".
Yikes!!! Sending good vibes your way and I hope things all work out. My aunt has 6 children. One day child #6 burned her hand and while my aunt was treating her, child #4 fell and needed stitches. They were all in the same room. The nurses at the ER asked my aunt where she was and completely judged her. Sometimes kids do things that are dangerous. Unless you live in a bubble, stuff happens. Hugs!
yikesy yikesy.
I was there once with the heimlech (sp). Tariku was in bed, found a quarter and decided to throw it up and down. You know where this is going...one time it went down...his throat.
Praise God I heard the moment it cut off his airway from a room away. Thank God he sprinted towards me, hands on throat, thank God I knew how to get it out. He was close to passing out. That was at 7:30pm one night. I didn't sleep that night until about 4am. The what ifs are almost worse sometimes.
Prayers with you!
agh. so, so glad he is o.k. hugs to you!
Holy intense week!! So sorry and glad everyone is okay! I fear the day E runs out of the front door! And choking is one of my worst fears, especially since my little guy has had such feeding problems. Another reason I want his OT to move in. Here's to hoping you have an uneventful weekend!
That was just about the worst thing I've ever read. Have you tried a door alarm? Hopefully next week will be an A+. We're praying for you and your family.
Oy Vey! Things like these can and do happen to any and all of us, and the odds go up for each kid...thankfully everyone is ok...lather rise repeat.
It can happen at any time to any of us. Just this week I looked out the window to see Little Dude go past - in the backyard - 100% naked. It was a "warmish" day for February. (I didn't know he was outside.)
If your grade was for what the week dished out - I won't judge it. But if you are grading yourself... I refuse to use anything but a pass/fail scale. All kids alive - Pass. And, really, you saved a kid from choking - that is actually extra credit.
How scary! I completely agree with Semi-feral Mam. Extra credit for saving a choking baby. Add this to my list of reasons why I'm scared sh*&less to be a parent.
DCF is NOT going to open a file on you. I mean, they may come check things out, but they definitely won't bump it up to the investigator. You're a great mom, and they've seen much worse. Trust me. But omg, what a scary week you had!
oh my word.... all of this will have to go down in family history! So glad he is o.k....and everything else will be too.
So scary!!! One of my biggest fears is my little man, or any small child, choking on little objects that are not meant for mouths or food they don't know how to chew. My heart was pounding just reading that. So glad it turned out okay and that baby-sitter extraordinaire was able to get it out!
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