A pretty good little Saturday. And I mean that with all the sarcasm I can muster.

I really just wanted some apricots that were on sale at a local grocery store. I woke up, ready to go the grocery store with Katie and after our pancake breakfast, thanks to Chef Eric, she and I loaded up into the Jeep and headed on our usual route to this grocery store.

Okay, so the crazy thing is, this was an instance in a way of the planets aligning: I was driving Katie, in the Jeep, and I’m pregnant. I fought tooth and nail to keep Katie from ever riding in that thing, because it seems like a death trap. We’re going to buy another car that both car seats can fit into, but since the Jeep is also a gaz guzzler and I need to start driving back and forth to Oklahoma regularly, Eric moved Katie’s car seat to the Jeep. You know what? She LOVES riding in the Jeep. She asks to ride in the Jeep.

So Katie and I are riding in what I formerly thought was a death trap. She’s happy, I’m enjoying the Saturday morning, I’m turning left onto Frankford. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a car running the red light as I pass through the intersection and sure enough, it slams into us, spinning the Jeep clear around and then some, slamming me into the driver’s side of the Jeep interior, and into the curb we just passed.

The instant we came to a stop, I turn around to check on Katie. She’s fine, but scared. When I ask her if she’s okay, she begins to cry. I unbuckle her, although I worry she may be hurt and need to be restrained. As soon as I get her out of her seat, though, she calms down and I gather her sippy cup of milk and the diaper bag.

Two men come to my door to check on us, one of whom tells me he saw the other driver run the red light. I’ll just add this: she wasn’t slowing down or stopping at all. She was going right on through. And she looks like a kid (although I think she’s almost 21).

I call 911, the witness gives me his contact information and tells me he’ll vouch that she ran the red light, and I wait for all the police people to come. In the meantime, Katie’s enjoying sitting in the front seat of the Jeep, but damn- it was HOT and it was only 9:30.

Fast forwarding through all the ambulance, firepeople, and police, I tried calling Eric repeatedly, cursing him out, texting him, because I realize his phone is on silent. I try every means of communication I can think of to reach him: besides texting, I call Steph, who, when she gets to a computer, emails Eric and calls Mike Beavers, who calls everyone he knows to try and get a hold of Eric. I only wished we knew a neighbor to come knock on the door and our apartment complex wasn’t listed with 411 so I couldn’t call the front office to come and tell Eric what had happened.In the meantime, lightrunning homegirl and I keep our distance from one another, but she comes over and shakily asks if we’re okay. I just want to punch her in the face so I can’t be nice. But she was upset. I’ll give that to her. I, on the other hand, began to emerge from my down-to-business fog and begin to swelter in my, Oh, God, is the baby okay? and my childish I-just-want-my-husband-here, answer-the-fucking-phone-please!!!! phase.

Anyways, the police get the car seat out of our mortally wounded Jeep and we discover that our insurance card, although our insurance agent’s office is 100 feet away, is expired. Our insurance is up-to-date, though, which the police office confirms in their system. Katie was most upset when the firewoman moved the Jeep out of the street and into the parking lot. Katie and I don’t have to be there anymore, so the policewoman drives us home.

We walk into the apartment, carrying the car seat and I unload on Eric. He discovers his phone has been silently blowing up. Stephs calls to check on us, saying they’ll watch Katie if we need to go to the hospital to get checked out.

Which I do. And everything’s fine. That was the next five hours of our experience. I got checked into Presbyterian Plano’s Labor and Delivery (by a nurse wearing an OU button!), we listen to the heartbeat, they check for contractions, I get five vials of blood taken, I get a sonogram that seemed much longer than the one we had two weeks ago, and we wait two more hours for all the test results to roll in. Granted, this was the most important part of the day: they had to check to make the placenta hadn’t separated, that blood hadn’t leaked behind the placenta, or that the baby and I hadn’t exchanged blood. I think Eric and I are the same blood type, but, it all checked out. Zuzu and I are fine. And you better believe that girl’s insurance is getting the bill for all this.

So, I’ve learned today that my uterus and my single ovary are quite possibly iron-clad. I can’t begin to express how grateful I am for that because I’m barely holding it together and I know when my mom calls me back, I’ll fall apart like I always do when I talk to her after something even slightly traumatic.

On the other hand, I’ve learned that we will get a landline. Cel phones, and the silent function on cel phones specifically, are not fool-proof. Technology is only as good as the people using them.

And finally, I’m reminded, again, just how sweet my daughter is. She was hooping it up in the 100 degree heat this morning, taking all the wipies out of the diaper bag, even wiping the back of my neck. She didn’t know I was hot and thisclose to freaking out, but still…

And after her bath this evening, when I was finishing cooking our late dinner and didn’t get to snuggle with her in her towel, Eric and I switched places. He finished cooking and I took over with Katie to calm her down because she was screaming for Mommy. She and I got her dressed, I held her in my lap and asked her if she wanted to sing a song. She requested Itsy Bitsy Spider, saying, “Pider, pider!” while making the rudimentary hand gestures that I’ve taught her to the song. We must have sang it 15 times, and she clapped and yelled, “Yay!” every time. But I just wanted to cry, because things could have been so much worse this morning but it was another night, we were putting our sweet, sweet child to bed, and like usual, she just wanted Mommy.

This was the first car accident I’ve ever been in in my life, and it all started because I just wanted some apricots.

btw: Zuzu’s tossing and turning right now. Must be those Krispy Kremes 🙂

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One thought on “A pretty good little Saturday. And I mean that with all the sarcasm I can muster.

  1. Krispy Kremes would be calling my name too! I’m so happy you guys are safe. Dallas drivers in my opinion are some of the scariest on the planet!

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