Ok, maybe I wouldn't call it an addiction, exactly. It's not like I can't stop, or that it's taking over my life or anything. But I do love it. It's so much fun.
Online shopping.
I spend hours perusing websites, dreaming about this product or that, adding things to my shopping bag and mostly never buying them.
I guess in that case it makes it a rather harmless hobby. But I worry that my frequency of pushing that purchase button is becoming, well, more frequent.
I recently had to purchase a uniform for R, who has this year finally decided to join Cub Scouts. Man oh man was I happy about that, as a part of me loves nothing more than seeing my children in uniform. What is with that? I don't know what it is, the conformity, the "matchy-matchy-ness" or just how darned cute they all look, but I love uniforms. I wish my kids went to school where they had to wear a uniform.
But I'm getting off topic.
So I had to go on the Scouting website to purchase the necessary items, which led me to perusing the not-so-necessary items. I ended up adding quite a few extras, like the travel mugs, the extra patches to sew on to their newly purchased blankets (for around the campfire), some zipper pulls, and a little stuffed beaver (for L) and a wolf cub (for R) on a key chain for their backpacks.
You see? I'm so bad.
But I do love that lovely package when it comes! The best ones are the ones that come straight to the door, but I'm good with the ones that come to the oversize mailbox (when they put that key in your regular mailbox, it's so thrilling!) or the ones that I have to go pick up at the postal outlet. Opening it up is like Christmas. Seeing all the things you purchased in reality, and not having to drag whining kids to the mall! Such a bonus!
I frequently look at my other favourite websites, Lands End.com and L.L.Bean.com. I also love Chapters.ca and Toys R Us. I often add things to a shopping bag, just to see how much it would all add up to in the end. Usually that's what stops me from pushing that buy now button. And I never have websites keep my credit card number on file, mostly for the reason that for me to make the purchase means I have to haul my lazy ass upstairs to get my wallett and credit card out, which is as much a deterrent as the huge number staring at me. This is my mistake with iTunes. My credit card is on file, which makes it oh so easy to just download new apps/songs/videos straight to my iPod.
Dangerous I tell you!
But come Christmas, my online shopping "addiction" is justified! Woohoo! I have very limited shopping time, worse now that you can't pull one over on the kids (they're just too darned smart and observant!) so I can't shop with them. And DH and I practically fight over who gets to be the one that gets to go get the gifts, seeing as how we can't go together. So I just boot up the old computer (ok, who am I kidding, it never gets turned off!) and shop to my little heart's content. Most of the online shopping sites will offer free shipping at some point, so you have to watch out for that.
Anyone care to share their favourite online shopping websites?
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
A Sad Day
Wednesday was the day. The day we had to put Vader down, our "puppy" of 13 long years. I talked in a previous blog about the fact that he had a bad heart, and mostly about the expense of it all. So here we are, almost 5 months later. That was five months of very expensive heart medication! We managed to cut back on how much he needed, which saved money of course, but it was still pricey.
So the decision to finally do it came a couple of weeks ago. His cough was getting bad again (which signaled the fluid in his lungs was building up again), and he was having more fainting episodes, which was something the medications were initially helping. We knew the vet had said he would deteriorate, despite the meds, and we honestly thought he wouldn't last this long.
DH was distraught. He cried and sobbed all night long, the night before he took him. Then we had to get up and tell the boys what was happening that day. They already knew it was coming at some point, but they didn't know when. L cried a lot. R cried for less than two minutes and was over it. I wasn't surprised; he was never very attached to Vader. L cared for him more, so is missing him more. I cried a little, the day of. I find I miss him at certain times of the day. Like when we come home from being out (and he would come greet us at the door) or at lunch time (when he would come out from wherever he was sleeping and wait patiently under the table for all the food to drop from the messy children.)
It was a rather long and stressful day. This is our first experience with having to put an animal down. And not the last, I'm sure. We still have our guinea pigs, so that will be another death we will one day have to face. And I don't doubt that one day we will get another dog (although it won't be soon, and I'd really like to avoid the puppy stage if possible.)
On a completely different note, I'm sorry I haven't blogged for a while. I also haven't been reading other blogs either, so if you are one of the ones I follow, I will be catching up on your adventures soon! And since I haven't been looking, I realized today that I have two new followers, which is very exciting!! Welcome! Now I feel all this pressure to write something good. I hope I don't disappoint you.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
What Would You Do?
Today I had a lot of running around to do. It certainly piles up on you when you have limited weekday time for that and only one vehicle to share as well.
So I was at the police station about to get my criminal record check done and I noticed that in the van parked beside me, a dog was shut inside. The windows were up, and the sun was out. Now I know it's not the hottest day today (25C is supposed to be the high, so it was probably about 23 at the time) but that is still hot enough for the vehicle to heat up rather quickly.
I always feel sorry for animals shut up inside cars. They can't open the window or door to cool off, and plus they are wearing a fur coat! How would we feel in that situation? Everyone knows not to leave an animal in the car during a sunny summer day.
It's not the first time I have seen this. Nor, I'm sure, will it be the last. But I've never had the guts before to really do anything about it. I'm not a trouble maker, or shit-disturber. I'm really rather a wimp. I avoid confrontation at all costs. So the thought of approaching some stranger and having words with them over this issue makes me feel a little sick and weak-kneed. Even if it is in defense of something completely defenseless.
And so my conclusion was that this time I wasn't going to be a wuss about it. I was going to "woman up" and do something about it this time. I went inside the station, and approached the desk.
Friendly-looking officer - "Can I help you?"
Me - "Well, you see I came in for my record check, and there's a dog completely shut up inside a van beside me..."
Officer - Stoney silence.
Me - Feeling rather awkward and uncomfortable.
"So, err, I was wondering if you couldarrest that loser maybe put out a page or something?"
Officer - "He'll be alright, no one's been in here that long."
Me - Feeling incredibly stupid and meddling by this point. I mumbled something about how I just felt sorry for the animal and went on my way.
So that's my heroic effort and how it went down. Never again will I try that. I felt so idiotic. Not to mention I'm sure the guy who owned the van heard every word and probably felt pretty smug about it. He was probably thinking, stupid cow, who does she think she is anyway?
So I'm wondering if everyone else would have done the same, or left it? Would you have carried it further, or slunk away with your proverbial tail between your legs like me?
So I was at the police station about to get my criminal record check done and I noticed that in the van parked beside me, a dog was shut inside. The windows were up, and the sun was out. Now I know it's not the hottest day today (25C is supposed to be the high, so it was probably about 23 at the time) but that is still hot enough for the vehicle to heat up rather quickly.
I always feel sorry for animals shut up inside cars. They can't open the window or door to cool off, and plus they are wearing a fur coat! How would we feel in that situation? Everyone knows not to leave an animal in the car during a sunny summer day.
It's not the first time I have seen this. Nor, I'm sure, will it be the last. But I've never had the guts before to really do anything about it. I'm not a trouble maker, or shit-disturber. I'm really rather a wimp. I avoid confrontation at all costs. So the thought of approaching some stranger and having words with them over this issue makes me feel a little sick and weak-kneed. Even if it is in defense of something completely defenseless.
And so my conclusion was that this time I wasn't going to be a wuss about it. I was going to "woman up" and do something about it this time. I went inside the station, and approached the desk.
Friendly-looking officer - "Can I help you?"
Me - "Well, you see I came in for my record check, and there's a dog completely shut up inside a van beside me..."
Officer - Stoney silence.
Me - Feeling rather awkward and uncomfortable.
"So, err, I was wondering if you could
Officer - "He'll be alright, no one's been in here that long."
Me - Feeling incredibly stupid and meddling by this point. I mumbled something about how I just felt sorry for the animal and went on my way.
So that's my heroic effort and how it went down. Never again will I try that. I felt so idiotic. Not to mention I'm sure the guy who owned the van heard every word and probably felt pretty smug about it. He was probably thinking, stupid cow, who does she think she is anyway?
So I'm wondering if everyone else would have done the same, or left it? Would you have carried it further, or slunk away with your proverbial tail between your legs like me?
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Commenting
I recently received a comment on my last blog posting that made no sense to me whatsoever. I removed the comment, because even though I am still trying to make sense out of it, I get a negative feeling from it.
Now, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, of course. And I have no misconceptions about the internet world. I FULLY realize that anyone and everyone can read what I write. That is why I try to retain some anonymity if possible.
But seriously, if you are going to comment on my blog, especially if it's a negative comment, please try to be clear, concise, and above all, CONSTRUCTIVE. Tell me how to make it better, but don't be all cryptic and elusive about it. Tell me what parts you are referring to. If you want a response, let me know.
I also think, don't be a chicken shit. If you want to tell me something, then at least leave an identity of some sort. Some way of letting me respond would be nice.
I leave comments on stranger's blogs all the time. I don't leave negative comments for a few reasons. One is that if something on someone's blog offends me, I just don't read it. There's too much out there to be bothered with something I don't like.
Another reason is that I feel it takes a lot of guts to put stuff out there. As I said, I know anyone could read what I write, and most of what I write is personal and comes from the heart. I do care what people think about me, and so for me, that takes a lot of guts to write a blog. It took me ages actually, to even tell people that I had a blog. So keeping that in mind, I don't write negative things to others. Like my mother always said, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all!"
Now, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, of course. And I have no misconceptions about the internet world. I FULLY realize that anyone and everyone can read what I write. That is why I try to retain some anonymity if possible.
But seriously, if you are going to comment on my blog, especially if it's a negative comment, please try to be clear, concise, and above all, CONSTRUCTIVE. Tell me how to make it better, but don't be all cryptic and elusive about it. Tell me what parts you are referring to. If you want a response, let me know.
I also think, don't be a chicken shit. If you want to tell me something, then at least leave an identity of some sort. Some way of letting me respond would be nice.
I leave comments on stranger's blogs all the time. I don't leave negative comments for a few reasons. One is that if something on someone's blog offends me, I just don't read it. There's too much out there to be bothered with something I don't like.
Another reason is that I feel it takes a lot of guts to put stuff out there. As I said, I know anyone could read what I write, and most of what I write is personal and comes from the heart. I do care what people think about me, and so for me, that takes a lot of guts to write a blog. It took me ages actually, to even tell people that I had a blog. So keeping that in mind, I don't write negative things to others. Like my mother always said, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all!"
Friday, August 6, 2010
Blast From The Past
This morning as I was watching (well, listening really, due to the chaos that is my mornings) a news show called Breakfast Television I heard something that piqued my interest. You see, this show is on for about 3 hours in the morning, and they do all kinds of pieces like local festivals, events, health and beauty stories, cooking, music, blah, blah, blah, as well as real news and weather. When I heard a band start playing (they almost ALWAYS have a band or singing group on at some point in the morning) an old John Cougar Mellencamp song, I had to look. I used to date this guy who played in a cover band for Mellencamp (and if you don't know what a cover band is, look it up) and the song brought back many memories and an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. As I watched this one guy singing his heart out about Jack and Diane (and pretty well too, I might add) the camera happened to pan over and zoom in on the drummer.
Lo and behold there sat my ex-boyfriend!! Unbelievable! It's always kind of weird to see someone you know on tv, especially someone you haven't talked to for about 15 years!
I yelled to the boys, "Guys! Look! I know that guy!"
Boys: "Which guy?"
"The one playing the drums! He used to be my boyfriend, waaaaayy before I met Daddy!"
Boys: "Him? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
Ok, I'll admit that time hasn't done him many favours. He's not one of those men that gets better with age...Poor guy. He's gainedtwenty or thirty a few pounds, and lost more than a few hairs. I'll ignore the weight gain though, haven't we all gained some in our middle-age?
He used to be really cute! Kind of...Doogie Howser-ish. He had a baby face, green (or was it blue? I know they weren't brown...) eyes and blond hair that was so soft when you ran your fingers through it....Oops, sorry, getting carried away there. I'll stop here with the physical descriptions...
He was the only guy I ever dated that smoked. He also drove a bad-ass black Camaro. It was his baby, and he only let me drive it once, when he was too drunk to drive it himself. Man was that fun! The car driving I mean, not the part about him being drunk. That part happened waaaaayyy too much. So much so, that I think maybe he had a bit of a problem back then. He was my bad boy phase. I went to more parties with him, snuck into more bars and drank way more than with any other boyfriend. And the fact that he was a drummer was a HUGE turn-on. There's just something about the drums that I love, and to this day I am still fascinated by anyone that can play them. I only wish.
So what happened, you say? (Or maybe not, you probably could care less.) Well, since you asked, he broke up with me on VALENTINE'S DAY! Seriously. What douche-bag breaks up with his girl on V-day? At least do it the week before. Geez.
But it was a good thing. The guy drank every penny he made, was way more interested in drinking and smoking with his buddies than seeing his girl, and had a very strange aversion to his own body fluids. Yeah. Nothing like shattering the moment by freaking out over you own ejaculate touching you. Problems.
Despite the ill-timed break-up, we remained in touch for a bit afterwards. He even came and visited me a few times in my college dorm...Yes, it was that kind of visit. But I wasn't the kind of girl by then that needed "more". I was in that phase of my life where I fully recognized the advantages of, well, satisfying one's own urges with no strings attached. So it worked to both of our benefits.
So now that I've walked down memory lane with you, I'm left wondering... What is it that makes us want to get in touch with people from our past? I now have this urge to get a hold of him, call him up or email him * and see how he's doing. I want to know things like if he's still teaching drumming, what he does for a living, does he have kids, or is he married.
*I'll admit here that I have actually tried to look him up on Facebook before.
Perhaps it's the innate tendency to show off, to brag about my life (not that there's much to brag about aside from my beautiful boys), to prove *snicker* that "I'm over him". That makes me laugh, but I think in a very small way it may be true. Don't you even kind of wonder if all your exes are "over" you, or if they're sitting around day after day pining for you, wishing they had had the good sense to smarten up and marry YOU?
LOL. Even my sister said something to that effect when I frantically called her this morning, yelling at her to turn on the tv, quick. She said, "Maybe he's on there, playing away and thinking at the same time, 'Gee I hope my ex-girlfriend Jenn see's this' " LMAO!! I seriously doubt the thought even crossed his mind.
Well, I'm off to do somecyber-stalking research!
Lo and behold there sat my ex-boyfriend!! Unbelievable! It's always kind of weird to see someone you know on tv, especially someone you haven't talked to for about 15 years!
I yelled to the boys, "Guys! Look! I know that guy!"
Boys: "Which guy?"
"The one playing the drums! He used to be my boyfriend, waaaaayy before I met Daddy!"
Boys: "Him? BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
Ok, I'll admit that time hasn't done him many favours. He's not one of those men that gets better with age...Poor guy. He's gained
He used to be really cute! Kind of...Doogie Howser-ish. He had a baby face, green (or was it blue? I know they weren't brown...) eyes and blond hair that was so soft when you ran your fingers through it....Oops, sorry, getting carried away there. I'll stop here with the physical descriptions...
He was the only guy I ever dated that smoked. He also drove a bad-ass black Camaro. It was his baby, and he only let me drive it once, when he was too drunk to drive it himself. Man was that fun! The car driving I mean, not the part about him being drunk. That part happened waaaaayyy too much. So much so, that I think maybe he had a bit of a problem back then. He was my bad boy phase. I went to more parties with him, snuck into more bars and drank way more than with any other boyfriend. And the fact that he was a drummer was a HUGE turn-on. There's just something about the drums that I love, and to this day I am still fascinated by anyone that can play them. I only wish.
So what happened, you say? (Or maybe not, you probably could care less.) Well, since you asked, he broke up with me on VALENTINE'S DAY! Seriously. What douche-bag breaks up with his girl on V-day? At least do it the week before. Geez.
But it was a good thing. The guy drank every penny he made, was way more interested in drinking and smoking with his buddies than seeing his girl, and had a very strange aversion to his own body fluids. Yeah. Nothing like shattering the moment by freaking out over you own ejaculate touching you. Problems.
Despite the ill-timed break-up, we remained in touch for a bit afterwards. He even came and visited me a few times in my college dorm...Yes, it was that kind of visit. But I wasn't the kind of girl by then that needed "more". I was in that phase of my life where I fully recognized the advantages of, well, satisfying one's own urges with no strings attached. So it worked to both of our benefits.
So now that I've walked down memory lane with you, I'm left wondering... What is it that makes us want to get in touch with people from our past? I now have this urge to get a hold of him, call him up or email him * and see how he's doing. I want to know things like if he's still teaching drumming, what he does for a living, does he have kids, or is he married.
*I'll admit here that I have actually tried to look him up on Facebook before.
Perhaps it's the innate tendency to show off, to brag about my life (not that there's much to brag about aside from my beautiful boys), to prove *snicker* that "I'm over him". That makes me laugh, but I think in a very small way it may be true. Don't you even kind of wonder if all your exes are "over" you, or if they're sitting around day after day pining for you, wishing they had had the good sense to smarten up and marry YOU?
LOL. Even my sister said something to that effect when I frantically called her this morning, yelling at her to turn on the tv, quick. She said, "Maybe he's on there, playing away and thinking at the same time, 'Gee I hope my ex-girlfriend Jenn see's this' " LMAO!! I seriously doubt the thought even crossed his mind.
Well, I'm off to do some
Friday, July 30, 2010
A Nasty Surprise
Ok, how nasty is that?!
I was innocently taking my laundry down yesterday, being the
EEEEKKKKK!!!!
I think you could have heard me scream ten houses over. All the boys outside with me turned to see what I was freaking out about. And being boys, of course they all wanted to touch it and save me from it...
NOT!
What is wrong with boys today?? L offered to whack it with the plastic golf club, but I declined, citing that I did not wish to rewash the garment in question due to bug-gut splatter. And I didn't want to "shoo" it away with said plastic golf club, for (my intense) fear that it would fly at me. Or anywhere near me.
As luck would have it, one of the parents came along at that point. She is a brave police officer, and she even wouldn't touch it! She did, however use the badminton racket to "shoo" it, at which point it flew from one garment only to land on another. She "shooed" it again, and finally, off it went on it's merry way.
So what was it, you may ask?
Well, I didn't look it up or anything, but I'm 90% sure that it was a cicada bug. They make that odd buzzing noise you hear intermittently in the trees during this time of year. We used to find them dead in our pool sometimes when I was a kid.
Sooooo disgusting! I may never hang laundry out again, to heck with the hydro bill.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Accident
Yesterday my DH and R were involved in a car accident. And they are both ok, thank God.
R had baseball yesterday, and I have never missed a game. But yesterday was a "clinic" day, which means that instead of playing a game, they had a big practice where they visit various stations to practice different skills. This is boring to watch, so I had DH take him on his own, and L and I stayed home.
About 20 mins after they left, the phone rang, and after I looked at the call display, I rolled my eyes, thinking DH was wanting to know which diamond he was on. So I was pretty shocked when I answered and he said, "We've had an accident."
Before I could start to freak out, he said that they were both ok and that I would need to come get them, as the car was now undriveable. Just how big was this accident?
After I got the location, I hung up and started scrambling to leave the house. My head felt like it wasn't attached to my body. I had washed two of our booster seat covers that day, and for some reason, I felt the need to reassemble the one that wasn't put back together yet before realizing I didn't need it. What a waste of time. All I could think was that I needed to see my baby, my son. I needed to put my own hands on him, see him with my own eyes to know that he was ok. It's not that I thought my DH was lying, or exaggerating, but it's that motherly instinct. I needed to see for myself.
As we drove the 15 mins that it took to get there, I was thinking the whole time about making it there in one piece. I was extra careful, extra vigilant of every potential threat to us.
The accident occured on a stretch of road that was posted at 80km/h. It was at the bottom of a long hill, so as I was cresting the hill, my heart in my throat and my stomach twisting in anxiety, I could see the now long line of traffic backed up. There were two lanes on our side moving very slowly, and nothing coming the other way. I could see in the distance the flashing lights of many emergency vehicles, firetrucks included.
FIRETRUCKS??! I hadn't realized that this was as bad as it was.
It was completely surreal. To be approaching an accident the way I was, stuck in the throng of cars, yet instead of being annoyed and curious, I was actually anxious to get there faster. I needed to get through in the worst way. It felt weird knowing that I was pretty much the only one who knew what was going on, what had basically happened.
I debated for a minute or two about how to get closer, finally opting for driving down the other side of the road and parking in someone's driveway. I'm sure I got many dirty looks, but I could have cared less. Besides, there was nothing coming towards us, the cars and emergency vehicles had it completely blocked off.
I threw the truck into park and yelled to L to stay put. Luckily he listens, and he was just as concerned as I was about his dad and brother. Although strangely enough, his main worry was that Daddy was going to have his license taken away, despite my reassurances that he was not going to suffer that fate.
I ran the rest of the way, tears clouding my eyes. I know they were needless, but I just had to calm the hysterical mother/wife side of me, reassure myself they were both fine.
R was still sitting in the backseat, looking calm but stunned. He was quiet, and said he was fine, but he was rather pale at the same time. Our truck was bashed in in the front, but the passenger section was ok. DH's airbag had deployed, and I can't for the life of me remember if any windows were broken. I think not, although there was a lot of glass on the ground, but that was mostly from the other two cars, especially the middle one. It was completely munched. Squished. Totalled.
So from what DH has said, he basically sneezed at the wrong time. I think a lot of things happened at the wrong time. The sun was at the wrong angle, the car in the front (there were three involved altogether) decided to turn left into a drive, it seems as though the second car probably slammed on their brakes, and DH sneezed as this was happening, causing him to crash into the back of them which in turn sent them into the person turning left. Or maybe both the front cars were turning left, I don't know. All I know is that DH swears one second it seemed there weren't that many cars around, he wasn't following too closely or being distracted by anything, and the next, BAM! He's slammed into the back of this car, the airbag has gone off, the truck is filled with this airbag dust, and the seatbelts have done their jobs.
As luck, or divine providence would have it, an ambulance happened to be passing by on the opposite side as the accident occurred. They of course, stopped immediately and assessed all the passengers of the vehicles. Despite the fact that the middle person's car was devastated, she was perfectly fine, save a little whiplash. Still, they told her to stay put (even though had she wanted to, she could have climbed out her window) and the firefighters used the Jaws of Life to open her door and retrieve her. Both front vehicle's passengers were taken by ambulance to the hospital, and they asked if we would like one too. However, we opted to go on our own, seeing as how the injuries were minor and it would probably have meant paying several hundred dollars to have that privilege.
The hospital was insanely busy. One woman waiting in triage said she had been sitting there for an hour (without even having been seen by a nurse yet or registered) and had seen about seven ambulances come in! So let's make a long story short here, and I'll just say that we waited for basically five hours before we were finally seen. At some point during that time, I took L home, got some supplies, fed the dog and dropped him off at a friend's house so he didn't have to be subject to all the fun of hospital ER's.
All in all, everyone was ok. Even the people in the other cars (as we heard via the cop). DH has a sore neck (of course) some very nice bruises from the seat belt, and a sore thumb joint, where the steering wheel rammed into his hand. R has a nasty friction burn along his neck where the seat belt was laying, and some bruising and marks around his waist area. The marks on his neck I feel are my fault. I had allowed him to be out of his booster seat in that vehicle, as he seemed tall enough for the seatbelt to lay correctly as long as he was sitting up. He was complaining of discomfort from the booster, which is why I allowed him to stop using it. In our other truck, he still has to use it, as the seatbelts don't come low enough without the booster. But now, he is going back into the booster. I don't care if he's almost nine. The nurse scared the heck out of me when she pointed out the fact that the mark from the belt lays along his jugular. She said he was very lucky to not have had it cut into that vein. Just the thought makes me shudder!
So parents, leave your kids in their boosters, despite their protests that their friends don't have to use them, or that they are uncomfortable, or that the law says that once they are eight they don't legally have to use them anymore!
R had baseball yesterday, and I have never missed a game. But yesterday was a "clinic" day, which means that instead of playing a game, they had a big practice where they visit various stations to practice different skills. This is boring to watch, so I had DH take him on his own, and L and I stayed home.
About 20 mins after they left, the phone rang, and after I looked at the call display, I rolled my eyes, thinking DH was wanting to know which diamond he was on. So I was pretty shocked when I answered and he said, "We've had an accident."
Before I could start to freak out, he said that they were both ok and that I would need to come get them, as the car was now undriveable. Just how big was this accident?
After I got the location, I hung up and started scrambling to leave the house. My head felt like it wasn't attached to my body. I had washed two of our booster seat covers that day, and for some reason, I felt the need to reassemble the one that wasn't put back together yet before realizing I didn't need it. What a waste of time. All I could think was that I needed to see my baby, my son. I needed to put my own hands on him, see him with my own eyes to know that he was ok. It's not that I thought my DH was lying, or exaggerating, but it's that motherly instinct. I needed to see for myself.
As we drove the 15 mins that it took to get there, I was thinking the whole time about making it there in one piece. I was extra careful, extra vigilant of every potential threat to us.
The accident occured on a stretch of road that was posted at 80km/h. It was at the bottom of a long hill, so as I was cresting the hill, my heart in my throat and my stomach twisting in anxiety, I could see the now long line of traffic backed up. There were two lanes on our side moving very slowly, and nothing coming the other way. I could see in the distance the flashing lights of many emergency vehicles, firetrucks included.
FIRETRUCKS??! I hadn't realized that this was as bad as it was.
It was completely surreal. To be approaching an accident the way I was, stuck in the throng of cars, yet instead of being annoyed and curious, I was actually anxious to get there faster. I needed to get through in the worst way. It felt weird knowing that I was pretty much the only one who knew what was going on, what had basically happened.
I debated for a minute or two about how to get closer, finally opting for driving down the other side of the road and parking in someone's driveway. I'm sure I got many dirty looks, but I could have cared less. Besides, there was nothing coming towards us, the cars and emergency vehicles had it completely blocked off.
I threw the truck into park and yelled to L to stay put. Luckily he listens, and he was just as concerned as I was about his dad and brother. Although strangely enough, his main worry was that Daddy was going to have his license taken away, despite my reassurances that he was not going to suffer that fate.
I ran the rest of the way, tears clouding my eyes. I know they were needless, but I just had to calm the hysterical mother/wife side of me, reassure myself they were both fine.
R was still sitting in the backseat, looking calm but stunned. He was quiet, and said he was fine, but he was rather pale at the same time. Our truck was bashed in in the front, but the passenger section was ok. DH's airbag had deployed, and I can't for the life of me remember if any windows were broken. I think not, although there was a lot of glass on the ground, but that was mostly from the other two cars, especially the middle one. It was completely munched. Squished. Totalled.
So from what DH has said, he basically sneezed at the wrong time. I think a lot of things happened at the wrong time. The sun was at the wrong angle, the car in the front (there were three involved altogether) decided to turn left into a drive, it seems as though the second car probably slammed on their brakes, and DH sneezed as this was happening, causing him to crash into the back of them which in turn sent them into the person turning left. Or maybe both the front cars were turning left, I don't know. All I know is that DH swears one second it seemed there weren't that many cars around, he wasn't following too closely or being distracted by anything, and the next, BAM! He's slammed into the back of this car, the airbag has gone off, the truck is filled with this airbag dust, and the seatbelts have done their jobs.
As luck, or divine providence would have it, an ambulance happened to be passing by on the opposite side as the accident occurred. They of course, stopped immediately and assessed all the passengers of the vehicles. Despite the fact that the middle person's car was devastated, she was perfectly fine, save a little whiplash. Still, they told her to stay put (even though had she wanted to, she could have climbed out her window) and the firefighters used the Jaws of Life to open her door and retrieve her. Both front vehicle's passengers were taken by ambulance to the hospital, and they asked if we would like one too. However, we opted to go on our own, seeing as how the injuries were minor and it would probably have meant paying several hundred dollars to have that privilege.
The hospital was insanely busy. One woman waiting in triage said she had been sitting there for an hour (without even having been seen by a nurse yet or registered) and had seen about seven ambulances come in! So let's make a long story short here, and I'll just say that we waited for basically five hours before we were finally seen. At some point during that time, I took L home, got some supplies, fed the dog and dropped him off at a friend's house so he didn't have to be subject to all the fun of hospital ER's.
All in all, everyone was ok. Even the people in the other cars (as we heard via the cop). DH has a sore neck (of course) some very nice bruises from the seat belt, and a sore thumb joint, where the steering wheel rammed into his hand. R has a nasty friction burn along his neck where the seat belt was laying, and some bruising and marks around his waist area. The marks on his neck I feel are my fault. I had allowed him to be out of his booster seat in that vehicle, as he seemed tall enough for the seatbelt to lay correctly as long as he was sitting up. He was complaining of discomfort from the booster, which is why I allowed him to stop using it. In our other truck, he still has to use it, as the seatbelts don't come low enough without the booster. But now, he is going back into the booster. I don't care if he's almost nine. The nurse scared the heck out of me when she pointed out the fact that the mark from the belt lays along his jugular. She said he was very lucky to not have had it cut into that vein. Just the thought makes me shudder!
So parents, leave your kids in their boosters, despite their protests that their friends don't have to use them, or that they are uncomfortable, or that the law says that once they are eight they don't legally have to use them anymore!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)