Thursday, June 22, 2006

Going for Mother of the Year

Well, let's start with last night. I am getting gas at Sheetz and somehow I lock the boys in the car. I keep my exterior composure, but inside my heart is racing. I call Jim and he is on 28 at the county line, but traffic isn't moving. I have my cell phone in my pocket, so I pull it out and call the police department non-emergency number. I am completely resolved not to panic because I realize I am about to see a whole bunch of people that I know - I just did the first responder training on autism. So after I hang up, I am just waiting to see who is coming to my rescue.

In the meantime, I am trying to see if I can coach the boys into unlocking the doors. I knock on the window to get Jimmy's attention. He knocks back. Okay, that's not going to work. I try explaining to Jacob. He tries, then it dawns on him that we have a problem. He begins to cry. I feel awful. They look hot - it's still in the 80s at almost 7 p.m. . The fire engine rolls up. Of course, it was three guys I had in my session last week. In my call, I identified myself and Jimmy's disability. They did exactly what I had mentioned - no sirens or lights when they came. Jimmy remained completely calm. They had the doors unlocked in less than a minute. These are just the greatest guys - I love the Manassas Park Fire Department. Absolute sweethearts - they, of course, reminded me that if I wanted to introduce Jimmy to them, all I had to do was bring him by the fire house. Yeah, thanks, I will keep that in mind next time.

This morning, I am fairing no better. I rolled my ankle coming down the last stairs, dropping Jimmy. He's okay. My foot is swollen, my knee is skinned, and my nerves are absolutely shot. But Jimmy's okay.

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