One Horrific Night

Well, I have to write down this story or I might not remember two months from now how I’m lucky to be alive. That’s the way my memory works. I had quite the adventurous evening on Friday…

I had an all-day Zumbatomic training in Tigard (which was awesome, by the way). Michael took the van since he would be carting the kids around and I took his car. On the way there I noticed that the gas gauge was in the red but I couldn’t worry about it because I had left late since I was trying to get all of the kids dressed, fed, lunches made, diapers packed, etc. for Michael to get them out the door. Plus, I had taken the time to put some minutes on my prepaid cell phone. For about two weeks it hasn’t been charged and has been out of minutes. Why I decided to take care of it that day, I’m not sure. But I’m grateful.

So, I got to my destination just fine. At lunch I tried Michael at work. I figured I could ask him how many miles his car gets per tank. It was at 300 at the time. You see, I really didn’t have time to stop on my way home either. I was supposed to get out at 5:00, get home and showered and was being picked up at 5:45 for a girl’s night dinner out and a play at the high school. Unfortunately, Michael was with a patient when I called and I wasn’t able to get him the rest of the day. What I should’ve thought about was the fact that two other times in the past, oh, probably two years, Michael has sent me off in his car and it’s run out of gas. I really don’t know why I ever drive his car. But every time I do, I forget that little detail.

Well, we didn’t end up getting out of our training until 5:45…when I was supposed to be home and picked up! I called Michelle, who was picking me up, to let her know that I’d meet them at Red Robin and gave her my order. I was so focused on getting home quickly and figuring how timing would work on everything that I mostly forgot about the gas. I mean, seriously, Michael wouldn’t send me out without enough gas to make it to and from my destination, would he? Yes, he would. At 6:00, right before I got off the 217 freeway, the car ran out of gas, just as I got onto the off-ramp at Canyon Rd./Beaverton-Hillsdale Hwy. Unfortunately, there’s not so much of a shoulder there as there is just a space. Also unfortunately, this space isn’t wide enough for a whole car so my driver’s side tires were sticking out into the lane and people were whizzing by me at 50 miles an hour. You could say I was freaked out. And I continued to be until I could find Michael’s hazard lights. I turned those on and the dome light so that at least I’d be a little visible (it’s dark at this time, you know).

Then I started making calls. Boy, was I glad I had that phone charged and ready to go. When I had logged on that morning to put minutes on it, I was only planning on putting $5 on it. We didn’t really have the money to put anything on it so I wanted to go as low as possible. I was bummed when I saw that the lowest option was $10. I almost didn’t do it because of that. Oh, what would I have done??? So, I call Michelle and tell her not to order me any dinner and also say my good-byes to her in case I never see her again (ha ha!). Then I start calling around trying to find Michael. For probably 40 minutes I couldn’t get him because he was in between work and picking up Parker and Maren and then in between there and picking up Evan. And finally he was driving home. It was terrible! After I prayed, I thought to call my dad. He was headed home, to St. Helens, on Highway 30, off of Cornelius Pass Rd. but said he was turning around to come rescue me.

I went through periods of sheer terror (like when the semis would come by within inches of me!) and moments of calm. The bad part was knowing that I was completely stuck. To try to get out of the driver’s side and walk down the off-ramp would’ve been sure death. I would’ve been flattened like a pancake in an instant with so much traffic and no room. Out the passenger side was a guardrail (I would’ve had to climb out the window) and on the other side of that was a drop-off. When there was no one else to call and I didn’t know what to do with myself, I thought I’d take my mind off of my doom and pulled out my iPod to play a silly game. Just acting like life was normal, you know? Well, it wouldn’t work! My fingers were so darn cold that I couldn’t work my iPod. Remember, I’d been at Zumba training from 8:30 – 5:45. I was covered in sweat from head to toe and my clothes were all soaked…my clothes which consisted of a sports bra, paper thin shirt and capris. I had a very, very light fleece over the top. And that’s it. I felt like I was sitting in the freezer, which I suppose I pretty much was. There were times I wasn’t sure if I was going to die of hypothermia or from getting hit.

Then everything changed. The dome light went out and the hazard lights flashed slower and slower until they stopped and I realized I was a sitting duck. No one could see me – especially since right before that exit you come around a curve. I’m sure people had about half a second to realize I was there. That’s when the freaking out started. I called my dad to find out how close he was (not very). I finally got ahold of Michael and told him to stay put with the kids but that I was scared. I called another friend to find out that her husband was on his way to me. And then I called the police to see if they could come put flares around me or something. Well, my first call to 911 lasted about 20 seconds before the call was dropped. What?!?! Then the 911 operator tried to call me back and I wasn’t able to answer it. My phone said something along the lines of, “You can only make emergency calls in emergency mode. Press exit to exit emergency mode.” I tried to call her back and got the same message. Huh??? I’d consider calling 911 an emergency number! Then I look at the phone and it says “Dormant”. What the heck does that mean? I’m trying to call my dad, I’m trying to call Michael, I’m trying to call 911. Nothing. I can’t make any calls in this dormant mode. I’ve never seen dormant. I can’t find any information about dormant. And I can’t do anything about it. And I’m scared. Again. Still. Oh, yes, and I’m ticked, too.

This dormant mode thing went on for probably 20 minutes but luckily the 911 operator tried me again and I was able to pick her up. I told her we’d better talk fast because my cell phone (Virgin Mobile – highly DISCOURAGE you from using this company!) was a piece of poo. She said she now had a better location on me and was sending out an officer.

And so we wrap up the story. Adam (my friend’s husband who was on his way home from work) got there and I sat in his warm car. Then one police officer arrived in an SUV and sat behind me with his lights flashing so people would know to go around and not hit me. After about 15 minutes another officer swapped out with him, this one in a regular car. Adam convinced him to push Michael’s car down the off-ramp and into a safe spot. I drove Adam’s car down the hill and Adam drove Michael’s car since it would be hard to steer without power steering. The officer pushed Michael’s car with his car. It was really all rather exciting. A few minutes later my dad showed up with the biggest gas can I’ve ever seen full of gas. Hooray! I drove away at 7:30 – right when the play was starting that I was supposed to be at. I was hugely bummed to miss dinner and the play out with friends but I was also hugely thankful to be living to see another day.

I dashed home and when I got there my family was so happy to see me and I was so happy to see them. They told me how they were praying and praying and praying. We were all very emotional. Even Parker. We held each other tight for a long time. Michael brought me in and got me ice cream first. Ha! Then Maren started a hot shower for me (Michael had even turned up the hot water heater so I could actually enjoy my shower – that doesn’t happen very often around here). While I was in there, Maren and Evan made me the sweetest notes. And when I got out, Michael had the most amazing sandwich waiting for me. I’ve cried a few times since Friday night, thinking about the terror I felt at times and also thinking about my reunion with my family after I wasn’t sure there would be one. I’m grateful for my dad and Adam coming to my rescue and for super nice officers who helped out. And a really hot shower.

Here's Maren's note: "Dear Mom, I am glad you are okay. Love, Maren"

This is from Evan. It, of course, shows me in the car, in a panic (but I am the best mom ever, thank you very much). And then it shows all of the kids running up to me to give me huge loves when I got home. Still the best mom ever. Ah, sweet kids.

More on Parker!

See, now? That's what I get for doing a last-minute, quickie post. I forget half of the things I wanted to say. A little more funny stuff about Parker that I can't bear to forget in this lifetime:

If he hears any commotion in the kitchen, he sprints in there, grabs one of the little plastic kiddie chairs from our little kid table and pushes it up to the counter. Doesn't matter what I'm doing. Could be just boiling water. He MUST take part or at least be there to watch everything. Uh, yeah, it's cute. And obnoxious. It would be only cute if he gave me some space but, no. He pretty much puts his chair right in front of whatever I'm doing so that I have to stand off to the side and reach around him to do what I'm doing. And if I try to move him over, forget it. Disaster. We have two of these chairs and I wonder why I continue to put them back by their table. They never stay there. Someone's going to break a leg tripping over them one of these days, I'm quite sure. In the meantime, if I've made you cookies, you can pretty much bank on the fact that Parker cracked eggshells into the batter and put his dirty fingers in there, too. Enjoy!

Parker is a master clothes changer. Especially shirts. Oh, the shirts! We probably go through three a day. Either because he got one wet or because it's dirty or just because he found one he likes better. What's so amazing to me is that he always gets them on the right direction. I contrast that with Evan, who pretty much never did, even up to age five or six. I think Evan just didn't care. Parker, however, is quite fashion conscious. He is constantly telling me things he does or does not want to wear. Silly.

Parker has a cute little lisp on words that end in S. I adore it! I get him to say S-ending words as often as I can. Another cute thing that I love is that on words that end in "st", he has a hard time saying them. So he puts a T before that, as in "first" turning into "firtst" and "almost" turning into "almotst". Oh, when that goes away I'm going to be one sad mama. One of my favorite words of his is "remember". It's usually used something like this, "I said don't close the door. Remember, Mama?" He's always asking me if I remember things he's previously told me (usually because I'm selectively forgetting and seeing if he'll catch me - ha!). Not much cuter than 2-year-old talk.

2 1/2 Year Old Parker

It appears that I've got some catching up to do. You know what? I'm not going to do it prettily (like that word?). It's going to be ugly. But it'll be done and I can move forward. Maybe I should make a post per child. Yes, I think that's what I will do. Must rename the title then. There. We'll start with Parker...

Parker is a solid 2 1/2 at the moment of this post. And a handful. A couple handfuls. I was trying to decide the other day: Would I rather go crazy from keeping an eye on him every single waking moment of his day or from not keeping an eye on him and having to find all the messes and clean them up? I'm still not really sure. Well, I guess I do know. I choose it every day. I let him do what he's going to do and then I pay the consequences. I will be thrilled when he's out of this phase of getting into EVERYTHING. His extreme good looks and charm get him out of lots of hot water.

He is really quite the talker now. His favorite words of late include such lovely words as: stupid (sometimes said as shtupid or stupie so he thinks he won't get in trouble because he's not saying the actual word), poopy, booty, penis, dang-it (I admit, this clearly came from me as I catch myself saying it now and thinking, 'oh, no, I've ruined him'), oh, I know there's more. Yeah, he's seriously on this potty mouth kick and it's driving us all completely crazy. We've tried the time-out for every time he says stupid (probably 300 times a day - seriously!) method. Nothing. He doesn't care. Didn't change any behavior. We've tried the ignoring technique. Same. In fact, the ignoring drives even Evan completely bonkers. By about the 30th time he's heard the word stupid, Evan is just about ready to pummel Parker to the floor. We are all losing our cool with this. Hope it's a short phase.

He does say nice words, too, though. I've heard him count as high as 14 a few times and he's getting really good at his colors. The only color he knew for a long time? Pink. His favorite color? Pink. Today he walked into Evan's school with my lip gloss, putting it on his lips and smacking them together. He's a special kid. :-)

Parker is a food-eating machine. He just thinks he needs to eat all day. It's exhausting. On both me and the budget. He loves Nursery and walks his little self right in there each week. He likes to "shake his booty" (see favorite words above). He is super duper silly. A couple of weeks ago he moved into the bottom bunk in Evan's room. It was a hard transition going from his crib to a big bed in a different room. But now he's doing great.

I used to joke that Evan and Maren were such easy kids that #3 was for sure going to throw us for a loop. Well, maybe I jinxed it. Because that's exactly what we got. What some people would call a "normal" kid. Ha ha! It's exciting and funny and wonderful and exhausting and stressful and frustrating all at the same time. Just the way we like it. Sort of. Mostly.