The Light At The End Of The Tunnel.

I'm a firm believer in being careful about what you throw out into the universe. Once it's out there, greater forces may be at work. Touché, Universe, Touche. 

As soon as I felt the sun start to warm my face, I was picked up, thrown back, and spiked back down into the cold darkness while a voice slowly bellowed "psych!! You aren't there yet. Back into the tunnel, you go." But I guess that's what I get for declaring that my kiddos had gotten easier. That I had learned to tread water, with my head held high, that I could finally breath. 

And the Universe was quick with it too. It didn't want me to forget for one single day that I'm not quite there yet. The evening of the very same day that I posted about how easy life had gotten. How enjoyable my children had become. How I had made it. All hell broke loose.

L wiped out on his scooter, leaving him with a fair amount of road rash and an over abundance of emotion that left my head spinning and me wondering if I should get him into acting. 

C peed her pants, 4 times, in a 3 hour period of time. Seriously, who drinks enough that they have to pee 4 times in 3 hours!?! And why out of those 4 times could you not stop long enough to actually make it to the potty. You had 4 chances!! 

And J...J swallowed a penny. Yup, a penny. But we thought it was a quarter and therefore chaos ensued. 

"It's not lodged in his throat, is it?" "I didn't feel anything in his throat" "you shoved your finger in his throat?" "Does it hurt, J" "I don't think it hurts him." "why is he still crying?" "He's upset it's in his tummy and not his piggy bank" "Do we take him to the ER?" "Where is an ER?" "How do we not know where an ER is!?!" "Now what do we do?" "What were you doing?" "You were watching him, not me!" "Urrgggghhh!" "Take him to the ER." Blank stare. "Use Google!" 

When things calmed down, the hubby and I had apologized to each other (we obviously work great together under pressure), and they were on the way to the ER we learned that the quarter was actually a penny. We also found out that we could take him the Drs office in the morning for a quicker x-ray at a much more affordable price. I then got to fish through poo for 6 days searching for the penny. Yay, me!  

The tunnel lengthened a little that day. The light appeared slightly dimmer. But it's still there, I can see it! And I'll just keep putting one foot in front of the other, while I carry the weight of this family of 5. We will make it to that light. Eventually the tunnel will be nothing but a speck on the horizon as I turn to look behind me. And I know I will think of this tunnel fondly.