Panic on the Playground

Motherhood, is clearly meant to drive me insane........or at least to the closest rehab......  Or bankrupt due to the medication I need to take in order to retain enough sanity to be able to function as a mother (so as not to have CPS called on me).

CASE IN POINT...........

(TRUE STORY) 

I decided to take my kids to the playground in our neighborhood yesterday afternoon.   Thankfully, there were a few other moms who had the same idea (you will see where this tidbit of information fits into the story very soon).

While attending to my 2 year old drama queen, who refused to wear her shoes (quite frankly, I'm lucky she kept her clothes on), I can hear my 5 year old yelling something from the jungle gym.  My dear, sweet, non-judgmental, ever-funny and inspiring friend, J, who was with us at the time said, "I'll go check on C"

Two minutes into consoling the 2 year old, who's feet are now bleeding from the bark she's been walking on, barefoot, I hear......

"He's really stuck!!" 

Now, in my totally rational mind, I'm thinking 'how stuck could the kid be?  It's a playground'

(I said "totally rational mind", right??)

Long (exhausting) story short, the child had wedged both of his arms and shoulders into the metal brace beams for a platform on the monkey bars.

Which begs the question............"HOW??"

Answer...............I DON'T KNOW!

At this point, pandemonium sets in.  He begins to panic, and hyperventilate, and scream (picture the sound of a caged hyena), and thrash around (kicking me in the process), which then forces his tiny little shoulders even further into the entrapment.

His little sister reacts by screaming.  The other children, now forced to watch the mayhem that has ensued, all react with equal amounts of hysteria.  Now, I'm forced to be the levelheaded adult in this situation (and let me just say, that has never been a virtue of mine).

After several minutes of trying to reduce C 's amount of terror and anxiety, I am completely unable to free him of his imprisonment in the metal beams.  I feel absolutely helpless.  There is no "give" to metal, people.  It just doesn't bend. 

By now, the other moms are attempting to quiet the rest of the children, my daughter included, but to no avail.  So, I calmly (yes, calmly) asked one of them to call 911.  It was clear we would need the 'jaws of life'.  

And I actually amazed myself by how rational and composed I remained during the entire event (this is no lie - there were witnesses!!)

Just then, by the grace of God, and whoever else was watching over us, I was able to push one of his shoulders free!  I initially thought I had dislocated it to do so, but, I didn't care.  He was free!!  My heart actually started to beat again.

Aside from being traumatized by the entire experience, and some bad bruising beginning to form, we all seem to be OK. 

But, I think I officially have earned the right to take a flask along to all outdoor activities involving my children (save your judgement).  And perhaps I'll need to bring some cooking oil, or Crisco, along as well.