- I am a below knee amputee. More importantly, I am also Mommy to two boys, a very active 10 year old (Robby) and an mischievous toddler (Timmy). I have learned that being a parent with a disability can create some unusual and sometimes humorous situations. This blogger is available for hire! Let's talk and learn how a blog can expand your business.
Tuesday, October 14, 2014
Yesterday was busy! I woke up at 4 in order to tackle some reports before Timmy woke up. I've come to accept that anything mentally challenging needs to be conquered in the pre-dawn hours while the house is quiet. I'm not a morning person, but I am beginning to appreciate the solitude that waking up early affords me.
After making breakfast, doing some dishes and convincing Robby that he did indeed have to go to school, I was ready for a nap. Unfortunately Timmy did not hold the same idea. He was fussy and the only way I could keep him satisfied was to wear him on my chest. Standing at the kitchen counter, wearing an infant, is exhausting!
By the time I picked up Robby from school, Timmy had melted into a little smelly bundle of discontent. He valiantly fought napping all day and was simply miserable. I made Robby a snack and a bottle for Timmy before settling into the rocking chair in our bedroom. I knew that he wouldn't nap long, but I was hoping that he would sleep long enough for me to make dinner.
My little guy was hungry! He sucked down five ounces before falling sound asleep. His little arms flopped to his side and his mouth was gaping open. (He is so adorable when he is so sound asleep.) Breathing a sigh of relief, I was getting ready to stand up and put him in his crib when my plans were turned upside down.
I happened to glance up at the ceiling and immediately recognized the slithering form lying on the plastic sheeting (we really need to get that hole in the ceiling fixed). I shrieked and jumped out of the rocker, startling Timmy awake. Let me tell you, he did not appreciate being woken up from such a deep sleep in such a dramatic fashion. He started screaming while I simultaneously began to cry. I really hate snakes!
True to Murphy's Law, Scott had to work late and wasn't home. I saw the tail begin to shake and move, confirming my fears that he was alive. Continuing our streak of luck, he seemed to be lodged underneath the glue trap. Had he been on top of the trap I would not have been nearly as panicked. Uncertain that the snake would stay put and alone with an eight year old and an infant, I knew that I had no option but to tackle my snake phobia again.
By this time Timmy was wailing. I put him in his crib, turned on his fishy mobile and shut the door. Although he wasn't happy, I knew that he would be safe. I put on a pair of gloves, grabbed a trash bag and my makeshift spear (a steak knife duct taped to the bottom of a crutch) and tried to channel my inner warrior. Robby stood on our bed, excitedly watching me on from a safe distance.
I'm not ashamed that he witnessed me crying, because he also saw me step up and conquer a fear. I managed to climb up on the counter top, reach into the ceiling and grab the snake. Thankfully his head was stuck to the glue trap so his options for escape for nonexistent.
Robby cheered me as I threw the snake into the woods, bragging that we "schooled that slithering b@stard." I should have utilized the teachable moment to address his language, but at that point I was so relieved that the snake was out of the house that I opted to high five him instead. Robby played with Timmy while I put up new plastic sheeting. Scott pulled into the driveway as soon as the commotion settled down.
I have decided to ask Santa for extra long snake tongs this year.
at 3:50 AM