The Crash

Yesterday started off like any other day: nuts. Rushing around, making breakfast, packing lunch, getting babies changed and dressed, extorting good behavior from my boy-child. Typical morning. I was busy getting Bobby to nursery school on time so that I could make a doctor's appointment in Panama City and then back in time to retrieve him from school. There was lots of bustling and a few curse words muttered under my breath, but all went off perfectly on time without a hitch. 

I arrived at my appointment on time and, for the first time in the history of the world, I didn't have to even wait to see the doctor. I just breezed on in. 

I knew something had to be up with the Universe. 

It was all too easy.

Vivi behaved like an angel baby, and when we returned to the car, I told her, "Vivi, you and I have plenty of time to get home today, so we are going to get something fun to eat!" I had more than enough time to get back in town and pick up Bobby from school, so I was thinking of getting some frozen yogurt as a little girl-time treat for the two of us. You know how you feel like you never have enough one-on-one time with the second child? I had a distinct resolve to make it up to her yesterday afternoon. 

Happy and leaving the doctor's office for some fro-yo.

So we hit the road back toward home, with the sun shining and the radio loud. I was finally coasting on the mental fumes that you get after you've accomplished something that you've been stressed about doing all day. The hard part of the day was over, and I was no longer in a rush. We were just driving along when, out of nowhere, it happened. 

BAM.

My first real car accident. 

A car crossed into oncoming traffic trying to get to a store on the other side of the highway. By the time I saw her coming, I swerved out of traffic to try to miss her, but it was too late. We crashed into each other anyway. 

I'll spare you the head-on view.

It all happened so fast, but naturally, my first reaction was to make sure Vivi was okay. The cars collided on the driver's side of my car, so it was not on Vivi's side. Despite crying and being shaken up and biting her bloody little tongue, she was totally fine. I got out of the car and before I could reign myself in, Mama Bear began to pour out of me. 

"What the $#^% were you doing running out in front of traffic like that? I have a baby in the car with me!" I screamed at her. 

Then I ran around to collect Vivi and confirm that she was, indeed, alright. After I assessed Vivi and the situation, I composed myself enough to apologize for my spirited reaction and explained that I was simply in shock. The other driver was apologetic and called the police for me while I arranged for a friend to collect Bobby from school. 

My little trooper.

I took a look at the front of my car and cringed (although it was definitely the very least of my concerns). Funny thing is that this isn't even the car I drive on a daily basis. Once we had kids, Alex and I switched cars. He usually drives my Lexus, and I usually drive his Land Rover around, feeling like a frat boy. But today was the day that I drove the Lexus, and that was the car that got hit. I don't know if they will total it or not or if they will just fix the damages; the whole front end is pretty ruined. It was a bad little wreck.

I can't stop playing the "what if?" game now and running over all the hypotheticals in my mind. It could have been worse. I could have had Bobby in the car. I could have been in a different car. Would it have been better or worse in the other car? What if I'd left only a few seconds earlier or gone a few miles slower or faster? Would the accident have been avoided? Why does Alex always have to be out of town when this shit goes down?

I had a difficult time sleeping last night, as I jumped right into a nightmare of Vivi being horribly injured. Then I woke up having a mild panic attack. I've just never been in an incident where my children are involved. I also can't shake this anxious feeling of guilt, and I don't know why. I wasn't in the wrong, and I'm guilty of nothing in this incident. But it has really opened my eyes about how serious it is to be on the road, especially when you are carrying around such precious cargo. I was not using my phone when this accident occurred--Thank GOD--but I'm not going to lie and say that I've never done that before. Everybody has. And just the thought of that, the thought that I ever could have caused an accident to harm my children or myself, makes me sick. Nothing is that important. It can wait.

I know that worrying about this is useless, and there is no reason for me to feel guilty, and I'm sure that these feelings will soon pass. So today I am thankful and rejoicing that nobody was hurt. I am thankful I had a good friend nearby to come collect us. I am thankful that we were in a safe car and that Vivi was in a safe car seat. I'm thankful I had my seat belt on. Things can be replaced, but my children can't. My two sweet babies are here and healthy and happy, and that's all that matters. The rest is for insurance. 

We woke up this morning in good moods, and we decided to back on the horse. We loaded up the Land Rover, and took a trip to the grocery store for free cookies and surprises! Kids are happy, mama has whiplash is happy. 

God is good!

On an unrelated note, I may need a mild sedative.