"In a Minute"

For those who've asked, the Sun Post has not been running freelancer's columns in print lately due to lack of ad revenue because of--let's all say it together--"the economy"... But today they ran one I submitted a little while back. On the "good ad days" they do this, I'll post it here.

Recently, I decided to be a good old-fashioned housewife and polish a bowl that I think used to be silver before my kids relocated it to the shower four years ago. I put the ingredients of the homespun remedy into my laundry room sink and turned it on. But it was taking way too long to fill up. So I thought I’d go fold some laundry. And put it away. And make the beds. And talk to my mom on the phone for 45 minutes.

As my mom was nearing the part of her screenplay idea that hopefully will lead to her early retirement, Blake appeared in my bedroom and started doing that awkward four-year-old dance that usually means, “I really have to go potty or tell you that baby Gracie found the permanent markers.” His wide, fearful eyes pulled me off the phone.

“Mommy, there’s watuh all ovuh the kitchen flooh, and I don’t know why but I pwomise I didn’t do it.”

Aggggghhh! The sink! I ran into the laundry room which was now an inch deep in my homespun concoction. I turned it off, threw down a heap of towels, and ran downstairs only to slip on the stream of water that was rapidly covering my kitchen floor. Its source was unclear until I opened the back door to the garage, where puddles were seeping into the house through the door sill. A quick frantic call brought home a very nervous husband. After a tense hour of investigation, we realized we had won the distracted housewife lottery. It appears that most, if not all, of the water had drained through optimal channels. This would be an easy repair job. Whew.

But all it took was a moment.

A lot can happen in a moment. And a lot worse than a minor flood from a laundry room sink. Just this week...

My baby nephew went to the ER where his very worried parents discovered that the breathing troubles they thought were pneumonia were actually due to a Chuck-e-Cheese token that was lodged in his esophagus. A quick surgery later, and he’s fine.

My two-year-old daughter escaped the home of a friend and was found down the street by a well-placed neighbor who happened to know who she was and brought her back. This wasn’t the first time my little escape artist has disappeared, and may not be the last. But I thank God for the baby angels who watched over her, once again.

A mother in Utah faced the unimaginable. She left her one-year-old in a bath tub with his brother and got “busy.” She came back to find he had drowned. After arriving to the hospital with no pulse, he was revived and endured ten days of excellent medical care and life-saving devices. Today he woke up, and is showing all signs of normal life.

Miracles do happen. But so do distractions. It only takes a second for a child to head dive out of a shopping cart, fall into a pool, or find the medicine cabinet. May all of us parents keep our eyes wide open. And may we all be so lucky.