No recipe today. I'm a mess. I didn't sleep much.
John saw a flyer for fishing lessons at Marsh Creek. It's a beautiful lake about 20 minutes from our house, tucked away among some rolling hills and beautiful farm/ranch properties. The class was provided by the fish and boat commission, so it was free and available for all ages. We signed up, learned a lot, and caught 11 fish between the six of us. They were all small bluegills that we tossed right back, but it was still so much fun!
I was helping Kid #2 untangle his line and all of the kids had their toes in the water, but true to his absolute fearlessness, Kid #4 meandered across the rocky bottom further out from the shore. I sternly told him "no," which did little more than slap an impish grin on his face as he turned and tried to run out further, only to trip and go under.
The next thing I knew, I was putting his soaked little self on a picnic table and patting his back while he coughed and gagged a little. The commission official walked over to see if we were ok and the kid just smiled a big smile at him like what just happened was no big deal. Just like him to do such a thing. I could utter little more than "Thank you, Jesus!" the whole way back to the car, where I put him in some of the clothes that were in the donation bag in the back of our car. I just stayed soaked, trying to wrap my head around what happened.
This morning, I did remember more details about the blocked-out part between seeing him disappear under the water and putting him on the picnic table. Sadly, it's images of my son, eyes wide open, submerged and struggling to get his head above water. I haven't had my release about it (usually a good, hard cry or furious tantrum about something stupid), so my neck is all tensed up and I feel like a big, hot stone is sitting on my throat and chest.
He didn't "almost drown" like I blurted to my parents over the phone last night. He couldn't have been under the water for more than two seconds, and likely only a second. He probably could have regained his footing and popped back up above water if I'd given him another second or two, but I wasn't going to wait to find out. Either way, I'm this mess of confusion today, between "stop being a drama queen and get over the what ifs, because he's alive and fine and just be thankful for that" and "oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit, he was under the water and everything could have gone so terribly wrong and he'll still probably get sick from swallowing the water or getting one of those brain-eating amoebas, oh shit oh shit oh shit!!!" My apology for the expletives, but that's how these thoughts are manifesting.
Kid #4, on the other hand, slept like a log, waking up only once to cry about the fastener tape on his diaper coming undone. He's fine. He's in my lap as I type this, trying to push buttons on the printer and get himself into his typical daily rounds of trouble. It's like yesterday didn't happen for him. I want that to be me! I want it to be done so that I don't break down about it while we're out later, notarizing the kids' homeschool papers and shopping for back to school supplies.
I can just see it: the notary asks for my ID and I just lose it, sobbing and laughing at the same time while I insist that nothing is wrong and I'm mentally competent to homeschool my kids, even though one of them could've drowned in a lake last night.
Ugh. I need to throw up or something.
EDIT: I just read yesterday's entry. Can I call it, or what?! So many expletives!!! This kid... Oh my stars and garters...
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