Somewhere Between....my mother and myself.....

Of course, the minute Tob gets on a plane, you just KNOW something is going to happen - just like you know gravity is keeping your feet on the ground.
Braden woke up with horrid stomach cramps Monday. Now, for all you non-parents-of-tweens, this is not an abnormal occurrence on any given Monday during the school year. I somehow managed to get all 5 of mine, along with Taylor, Annabel's BFF, out the door on the way to school, figuring the cramps were a fake. I used all the "mommy reverse psychology-I know you are faking lines".... "I would hate for you to be sick and miss Matthew's birthday."...... "I was planning on going to Target after school."..... These usually highly-effective lines did little. So, I pulled the "I am mommy! Hear me roar!" line and said, "Unless you produce some puke, your butt is going to school." It was about three minutes after this roar that I realized he was not faking. So, dropped the big kids off, took the babies to preschool, took Braden to Dianne's, and headed to my post-op appointment.

During the course of the morning, his cramps worsened and seemed to be located on the right side. So, off to the Doctor we went. Then off to the hospital we went. In went the IV and we were officially in room 5515. And Tob was in Baltimore. Never fails. After several tests and hours, I was very relieved to hear his Appendix was fine. No surgery needed. Just the start of a bad stomach bug. I proceeded to beg the good Doc to let us go home. No need to spend the night in 5515 for a stomach bug, right??? She finally gave in, and at 11:30 pm we were on our way home.

Of course, Braden HAD to point out that he could have died. You thought I was faking...and I could have died!!!! (...oh the drama...) I quickly pointed out that he would not have died because it was just a bug. And NO! I was not going to buy him a new paintball gun just because I thought he was faking and he almost died. Then I did it...before I could catch myself. The whole "crying wolf" speech that I swore I would never use was pouring from my mouth....and I was pounding my hand on the steering wheel in perfect time.

I looked over at my son, who was gazing out the window, half listening, and the years flew backwards. I could smell the interior of Mom's black BMW. I could feel the bumpy texture of the stiff seats. I could remember sitting in Mom's car, the roles reversed, having that same speech delivered to me, her hand pounding the steering wheel in perfect time.

As he continued to stare out the window, I can't be sure, but I am willing to bet he was making a mental note to never lecture his child who "almost died" about a wolf.

Good Luck, Son.