Decompressing

I need to start with a funny story because the rest of this post is going to be verbal catharticism (is that a word?)...

The family was discussing the Spurs trade at dinner. For some idiotic reason the Spurs have traded Brent Barry and Francisco Elson to the Supersonics for some really old guy and a 2009 Draft Pick. I won't go into detail with my frustrations over this event, but suffice it to say that I think the Spurs have made a huge mistake. We already have the oldest team in the league, and while I believe in experience, I am doubtful that bringing in a defender who is my age is a brilliant move. Then again, what do I know? Maybe Kurt Thomas's height will be the answer to keeping the opponents' scores down.

At any rate, toward the end of dinner David gave his summary: "Mommy, your boyfriend is on the Supersonics because he's supersonic fast." Kevin and I couldn't stop laughing at his 4-year-old assessment of basketball and relationships in general. Not only do I have a new boyfriend, but he's 6-foot-7 and makes hilarious HEB commercials. Lucky me.

And now for something completely different:

David and I were checking out at Old Navy today when we witnessed a horrible accident. The woman in front of us in line had a toddler son and an adorable baby girl in an infant carrier. The baby was all smiles and I was having fun making faces at her. The mom finished up, opened the front door to leave, and then started screaming hysterically as she watched her two-year-old dart into the parking lot right into the path of an oncoming car. I watched with horror as the boy struck the front side of the moving car, which kept moving, ricocheting the boy onto the asphalt. He was trying to get up when his mom reached him and scooped him up. I ran outside and moved her baby carrier back into the store and told the employees to call 911. The ambulance arrived a few minutes later, although the boy wasn't bleeding and appeared to be more terrified than hurt. I think the mom needed checking out more than her son -- she was hysterically crying and shaking. Who wouldn't be? I started crying, too, and David looked at me quizzically since he didn't quite know what was going on. After the family went inside the ambulance to get examined, David and I had a long talk about why Mommy is always telling him not to run in parking lots and to always hold Mommy's hand. And you better believe that I'll be even more vigilant about it now.

I wish I'd thought to ask the mom's name, but God knew who I was talking about as I prayed for her while waiting for the ambulance to come. Still, I would have liked to be able to call her tomorrow and follow up.

Two years ago I took all three kids with me to California... on a plane... by myself. We were wandering through the airport when we saw another mom who had her toddler on one of those kiddie leashes. I overheard a couple (who obviously didn't have any children) talk about how horrible it was to put your kid on a leash. I didn't speak up but I wanted to tell that couple that some kids, especially two-year-olds, really do need leashes. It's not about bad parenting, it's about the safety of the child. And I know the mom today was wishing she'd had her son on a leash or in a stroller. But accidents happen, and I'm just so grateful that today's wasn't any worse.