Miguelina

Lucky

Driving home last week I was struck by how disgustingly lucky I am.  I was thinking of all the many things I have to be grateful for.  To top it all off, the weather was gorgeous, the kids were behaving and I was on Top of Things.

Everything was perfect.

That's when I heard it.

BOOM!

Someone's been in an accident!

I was glad it wasn't me.  Until I noticed my car tilting, ever so slightly, to the right.  That's when the seconds turned to minutes.  But what happened didn't register until I saw the light reflected in the shards of glass raining around my car like bubbles.  I felt like I was drowning.

Gratitude, my ass.

I looked behind me and saw a silver car in the parking lane, its door flapping back and forth into the street, and the driver jumping up and down in her seat, her face frozen in terror. 

How?

I saw my boys, strapped in their car seats, searching my face for answers.  Thankfully, they were fine.

Thank God.

I pulled over, got out of the car, opened the back door to get a better look at the boys.  I didn't notice how the door had buckled into itself, the gash.  People ran over, offering their cell phones, offering to hold my babies.

I was in shock. 

They're fine.  Thank you.

The other driver rushed over.

"Are you OK?"  Her eyes grew huge.  "OHMYGOD YOU HAVE CHILDREN IN THE CAR!  OHMYGOD YOUR TIRE!"

That's when I noticed the damage.  That's when I saw the huge dent over my right front tire.  That's when I saw that the wheel had a 4-inch gash on it's side.  That's when I saw the crushed metal, the peeling paint - our brand-new family car's side crumpled like a piece of paper.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine.  Move your car to the parking lot, get yourself out of traffic."

I did that. 

She went back to her car.  A man in a business suit came over, cell phone in hand and called the police.  He offered to change my tire, but I refused.  A limo driver on break brought me water bottles and sat with me to keep me company until my husband could get there.  A nanny out with her charges offered to play with my son.

Thank you.  Thank you.

I asked the limo driver if he saw anything.  I still didn't know what had happened.

"I heard the accident, but I didn't see it.  But she definitely moved her car closer while you were distracted to make it look like she was further into the parking lane.

Thank you.

Police lights, a few questions.  My husbands arrives.  I try to cry, but no tears come out.

"What happened?"

I don't know.  I don't know.

We eventually figure it out.  She opened her car door into the side of my car.  My front bumper is dent-free.  She wasn't looking, was distracted, parked too far from the curb, and opened her car door into a car.

Into our car. 

Had she opened her door a second before she did, I might have seen her and been able to stop.  But she opened the door as I was driving past her, after she was in my line of sight.

There was nothing I could have done to avoid it. 

It's not your fault, my husband said. It's not your fault, said the insurance company.  I try to tell myself, It's not your fault.

Still, my head is filled with doubt.  What if I had taken another route?  What if I had a left a few minutes later?

What if?

How I Scored a Date with George Clooney Tonight

"The girls are going to the movies, but I thought we could get a sitter and go out on a date instead."

"Nah.  You should go out with the girls."

"...Really?  You're saying no to a date with me?  Thanks for the ego boost, hon."

"No!  I mean you need the break!"

"Riiiight."

I'd say that we're "like" an old married couple, except that obviously, we already are.

When I Grow Up...

I want to be this lady.  Isn't she awesome?  She looks so confident and put together.  She looks supremely happy to be one of a kind.  Kind of makes you look forward to growing up, doesn't it?

I don't know about you, but I rarely wish I was younger.  If I do find myself starting to worry about getting older I just turn on MTV or take a look at MySpace and I am filled with relief that I'm not 19 years old - I don't aspire to be a Pussy Cat doll or a Lindsay Lohan, so I would not be a good fit with today's young exhibitonists.

(Says she who has a blog.)

I don't believe that youth is wasted on the young.  Instead, time slips through our fingers while we wish for a different past.

Non, je ne regrette rien.

Supermom

I have been quiet  because my husband has been in Europe for the past 9 days (but who's counting!) for his brother's wedding.  I missed a fairytale medieval castle wedding because the bride and groom couldn't plan their big day around my pregnancy.  The nerve!  (I kid of course.)

But that's not what's important.  What's important is that I've been home alone, in a new house, with a new baby, and with a two year old.

You thought calculus was hard?  THIS is hard. 

The husband is back tomorrow night - so I can finally put my virtual feet up and relax a bit.  I can't, however, come up with a coherent post, so I will give you the last nine days of my life - in bullet form:

• Benjamin had his 2 month appointment.  I, being awesome experienced mother that I am, completely forgot that he would get his first vaccinations at this appointment.
• Somehow, as I was nursing Benjamin after his surprise shots, he managed to poop all over himself, the pediatrician's office floor, and my jeans.  Also, I stepped on the poop as I was trying to clean the floor.  I left the dr's office with a huge poop stain accross my lap.  Did I care?  No.
• My hairbrush is still packed away somewhere.  Do I care?  No.
• Benjamin ran his first fever.  Called the pediatrician in a panic because if a 2 month old runs a fever you have to go to the emergency room.  What would I do with Sebastian?  Then they reminded me that kids get fevers with vaccines.  I should have known that (see first bullet point).  Oops.  A little bit of Tylenol took it away.
• I ordered from Zappos for the first time.  I have to return two pairs of shoes.  My printer is packed away somewhere.  I KNOW I'm going to forget to return the damn shoes.
• Sebastian may or may not have had a case of conjunctivitis.
• In an example of breathtakingly stupid behavior, I volunteered to recruit local merchants to give discounts to our local mother's group.  Like I have the time to do this.
• I memorized the "I did that!"  Blue's Clues episode.
• I sang "Dora, Dora, the exploreeeeeeer!" while at the supermarket checkout.  Out loud.  Oh God.
• Where are my summer clothes?  Anyone see them?
• Hi!  Our toilets are loose.  Awesome.

See what you missed?  Aren't you glad I was away from the computer?

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I've started a review blog - EverydayTreats - thanks to the nice people who send me stuff to try out.  (I do it for you, my readers!)  Every once in a while, I'll have a giveaway - so keep an eye on my sidebar!  Today, however, it's a stop on the MotherTalk Mamasource blog tour.  Check it out.

Stick Figures in Peril

  How to use a Western Toilet 
  Originally uploaded by Vidalia

"Photos of warning signs showing stick figures in dangerous, often life-threatening, situations."

The internet is made for useless and therefore hilarious stuff like this.  Check it out (the comments are funnier than the signs).

  30230003.JPG 
  Originally uploaded by dermarkstein

The Namesakes

Judy, of GoodyBlog fame, tagged me (like a million years ago) with the following:

Give the meaning of your kids’ names, and write about what or how or why you gave the name to your kids.

Even a lazy blogger like me can handle that, since I've already told the internet everything there is to know about how we went about naming our first child, Sebastian.  I've been meaning to tell you all about Benjamin's name and this is a great excuse to do it.

One thing I left out in the earlier post, and which is really the common thread between our children's names is that we're Catholic.  My husband's family is pretty traditional when it comes to names - and if you're Catholic that means that you choose saint's names for your children.  My family is not strict about this at all - my name is the Persian word for dawn, we are not Persian and there are no saints named Roxanna.  They just liked the name, I think.  But since there are about 3 million saints names to choose from and most of them have colorful stories, I was happy to continue my husband's family tradition.  It's actually pretty hard to find a name that isn't covered in this list.

St. Sebastian is a pretty famous saint - he's the one depicted tied up to a tree, his upper body pierced with arrows.  The martyrdom of St. Sebastian has been, and continues to be a favorite topic for artists from Rubens to REM.  You can think of him as a rockstar - as far as religious figures go.  He represents physical and mental endurance, even in the face of extreme adversity.

St. Benjamin is lesser known - but he stands for speaking your mind and standing up for what you believe in - and that's pretty awesome in my book.  It also doesn't hurt that one of the most famous Benjamins ever was "a leading author, political theorist, politician, printer, scientist, inventor, civic activist, and diplomat" and was a native Bostonian to boot. 

That's a lot to live up to, but we'll have to wait a few years before we find out if they'll live up to their names.  For now, they're busy being babies and that's busy enough for me.