crash!

On Friday afternoon, the kids and I were in an accident. Driving along the 210 freeway, on our way to meet Ryan for lunch at noon, and I heard a crash of two cars to my left and the sound of screeching tires. I looked over my left shoulder to see two cars spinning out of control and one of them to crash into the side of our car. Luckily nobody was injured, but our *new* car was pretty crunched. My door wouldn't even open initially. At least a FIVE thousand dollar fix per the collision center's estimation of the repairs.
Dylan was really shaken up, crying and afraid (naturally). But Addie seemed unphased by the whole thing, sleeping and waking only to eat and because of the 90 degree weather outside as we waited for the highway patrol officer to arrive and take the report. Ryan actually arrived before the CHP, which says a lot both about how LONG it took the CHP officer to answer the call and how quickly Ryan managed to get to us!
We took the kids to see the pediatrician that evening, just to be sure they were ok, and all was fine.
I feel so blessed that we were in a safe car and no-one was hurt. It's amazing what damage was done to the outside of the car without one tiny scratch to any of us.
Also, I'm thankful for family and friends for their support through everything. My friend Anamara met us at the gas station as the officer wrote up the report and helped me with the kids, bringing cold drinks for all and showering us with positive energy and hugs. Then that night, my father-in-law met us halfway to San Diego to bring the kids and I down there for the weekend since Ryan was leaving for a conference the next morning and then loaned us their new car until Thanksgiving. Being down in San Diego with my in-laws this weekend made things feel seamless while Ryan was gone, helping me with the kids and making sure I got some rest after the accident. The distraction from Ryan being gone and the support of my in-laws was much appreciated. And with the LA fires blazing on, it was nice to be in fresh air with the kids.

First day out with TWO...

Today was my first offical day with the kids on my own. I decided to venture out to the park to meet up with some friends, thinking to myself "I can do this, I can do this..."

And after an hour, it seemed I was going to survive, sitting on a blanket next to my friend, nursing our daughters while our older kids played in the playground sandbox under the direct supervision of two of our other friends. I commented to her that the morning was going pretty well so far for us and even though Baby Addie seemed a bit annoyed by being outside, Dylan was having a good time with his friends.

Then IT happened.

Dylan had been jumping off the little platforms in the sandbox with his buddy Nolan and somehow hit his nose on the platform. My heart leaped from my chest and I ran to scoop him into my arms. The blood running down his nose and his screams broke my heart and those post-partum hormones kicked in and I found myself crying along with him... asking my friends to call Ryan to come meet us at the hospital (where I had just delivered Addie two weeks ago) as soon as he could.

(I hate to say this, but it actually looks worse than this picture)

Ryan arrived just about the time we did. And if it weren't for my friends all pulling together alongside me, ensuring I didn't lose my mind, I don't know what I would have done...
After taking xrays and being examined by the ER doctor, the biggest cut at the bridge of his nose was durabonded (glued) together and thankfully there wasn't any break. We all came home and spent the rest of the afternoon piled up in our bed, watching tv and trying to ensure the rest of our day was uneventful. Let's just say that icing a toddlers painfully bruised nose per doctor's instructions took some skill.

Tomorrow I don't think I'll venture out far from home. Maybe we'll get the mail.

Countless Places

Today on his way to work, Ryan walked down the street where the accident happened this past Saturday. He told me about how creepy it was to revisit that corner, how sad it made him feel. And how if you knew what had happened, you could still see the stained pavement from the blood. Wondering how many spots like that there are out there that we step over everyday, not knowing the history of what lies around us. The countless places where the authorities attempt to wash away what remains obvious to only those who were there. And how we'll never forget. Never.

They say that things like this come in threes. I guess they do.
I went to work this morning and plugged along through my day. That is, until lunch when I talked to another OT (occupational therapist) who also attempted to save someone's life this weekend, her neighbor who suffered from a fatal heart attack on Sunday. When she first came and told me what happened, I thought she was joking. She wasn't.

And to add to the stress in our lives, as if this past weekend wasn't enough to sustain our adrenaline for a while, Ryan's family has been evacuated down in San Diego with the recent Witch Fire. His Aunt Nancy's home is in the middle of one of the hardest hit neighborhoods, where homes on her street and behind her house have been confirmed as destroyed. And Ryan's parents have their dog stuck at the kennel in the mountains that we are worried about. Obviously our computers, TV, and phone calls tonight are all tuned into the news surrounding that fire and our loved ones.

Please keep them in your prayers!

Again

I don't know where to begin.
It's happened again.
Today I found myself in a place I wish upon no other.
Again I was standing over a man's body, watching him slowly die. But this time I reached out and performed CPR.
Again I looked across the street from where I stood to see my husband and son looking back at me, and longing to have not had to cross into the ugliness of the accident alone - but glad they were safe on the other side.
This time the accident was less of an 'accident', as the man took his own life. The forensics determined that he most likely jumped from the building. I saw a prescription bottle of pills in a bag the officer was holding when I went back to ask if the man lived. He didn't.
My thoughts are scattered. Bits and pieces of the afternoon flashing back. A hug from Ryan yields me thinking about how the man's ribs felt under my palms as I performed the CPR. Seeing Ryan's feet makes me think of the man's bare foot slowly loosing more and more color in front of me. The sound of Dylan's cry makes me think about how alone this man felt that he made that final jump today. Holding Dylan in my arms reminds me how precious and fragile life truly is. My own fears about death and dying make me wonder how anyone could reach the point of wanting to end their own life - especially in such a violent way.
And it makes no sense to me.
It won't.
Not in this lifetime I'm certain.
But something my mom said to me tonight on the phone really helped. I wanted to know why God would have put me there at that moment. To be there and have the courage to reach out to try and save that man, to learn that he died anyways. To go through these feelings of helplessness again. And she responded by telling me that "we look at our lives and see the back of a tapestry - knotted and ugly and disordered. But God weaves it together and only He can see the front - a beautiful and perfect picture, absent of the knots and disorder and confusion. A perfect picture that we won't see in this lifetime, but oneday will and it will all make sense." I'm thankful for those words. It helps me to put my confusion in perspective. To help me let go of my helplessness. To remember that I only could do my best and that I am not in charge of the rest.
And as I write now about this experience to try and find some kind of outlet, some kind of peace, I know it won't come today. And it won't come on Monday when I have to go to my recertification course at work for CPR (ironic that this all happened just two days before a class that I take only once every two years and just studied for last week!) But I pray that it will come soon and I can let some of this go - somehow.

p.s. Thank you Kathy for being here for our family once again. And thank you for your kind and encouraging words tonight.

Love Thursday: Fishies and Forts

Today we all ventured out to the Cabrillo Aquarium.
It was a small-ish aquarium, perfect for an hour or two visit, including a tidepool touch-tank.

Here he is giving the fish in the tank a 'kiss'!


On the way home we missed our turn for the street leading us to the freeway. Once we turned around and turned up the correct street, we watched a nasty car wreck just about 50 feet ahead of us (in which the jeep/hummer car did a 180-spin just missing our car by a couple yards)! Imagine if we hadn't missed our turn, perhaps causing us to just miss being one of the cars in that accident?! That could have been us. We pulled over and I almost got out of the car to try and help... flashbacks of last year come to mind. But Ryan knew better. Since we were in the middle of LA, there were plenty of other people already running to help out. I have been thinking about what happened again back in December and I'm thankful that Ryan had the foresight to know what was best for our family today, gently telling me to stay in the car this time.
We drove carefully the rest of the way. Dylan fell asleep in the car, giving us time to talk and enjoy the rest of our time together before taking Ryan back to work. Then Dylan and I came home and took a nice, long nap.

Tonight we had the perfect post-aquarium visit dinner: fish.

Then Daddy and Dylan built their first fort together, which Dylan lovingly referred to as their "how-t" (which I guess was 'house').

And in two days it is Dylan's birthday. Two years. I can't believe it has gone by both so slowly and so quickly at once. I dread how fast Dylan is growing up, however I love watching him grow. It's a bitter-sweet road. And so I buckle-up (it's the law, and part of a campaign here in California, don't you know?) and get ready for the next year's ride!

Arthur

Tonight after leaving the annual Christmas party at Ryan's boss's house, on our drive home, we came upon an accident with a man lying in the road and an Explorer nearby. Since I know CPR, I got out of the car to "help" initially. I can barely put it into words, but it was the most horrible thing I've ever seen and I'm glad that Dylan and Ryan were in the car and didn't have to see what I saw. We were one of the first cars to pull over and I was probably the second person to walk up and see if the man was ok. He wasn't. After replaying the evenings events over and over in my head probably 15 times now I still can't make sense of any of it. I just felt so helpless standing there, wanting to do CPR so badly, but not being able to bring myself to do it with all the blood (in the back of my mind I think I already knew that it was too late). Once they pulled the sheet over him and I realized that he was gone, I cried because I felt like I should have done something, anything. The policeman that I talked to told me that I couldn't have done anything to save him and that he was apparently thrown from his car and drunk. It felt so cold and lonely out there. He deserved better than that. Anyone does.
I don't know why I was there. I keep asking myself why we drove that way home (because we've never been that far along Huntington Drive before and were just trying to find a gas station and passed the road accidently that we needed to turn on just before we came upon the accident). I don't even know why I am writing this now, except to tell those that I love that I'll never be able to forget the images of tonight and that man bleeding to death before my eyes... and how precious and fragile life is. And how I want each of you reading this to vow to NEVER drink and drive, ALWAYS wear your seatbelt, and drive CAREFULLY. Please promise me that.
And now I think I'm going to go hug my husband... again. Very tightly. Goodnight.