About a week and a half ago, I got into a car accident. It wasn't huge, no one was hurt, but both kids were in the car. Our car is wrecked, although not beyond repair, but enough that I can't drive it right now. I've been putting off writing about this because I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to say or why I wanted to say it.
A car accident, however small, with the two most precious people in your life sitting behind you is beyond terrifying. It has also brought up visions of what kinds of things can happen, which frankly, has not helped my insomnia situation. Since then, I've been driving warily, and anxiously. This does not necessarily make for a better driver, in my opinion.
I'll have you know, the accident was only partially my fault. In fact, we called it a wash considering both parties hit each other head-on. However, the woman I hit (who also hit me) did not have two kids in her car. She was actually very nice and seemed to recognize my extreme distress upon discovery of the two car seats. Both kids were crying, although Shnook was the only one who seemed genuinely upset about the actual impact. Fuzzball just hates the car and screams the instant his seat clicks into place. When I asked Shnook if he was okay, he cried out a loud and angry “NO!!!!” After going over his body parts and seeing that he was in tact, he got over it quite quickly and switched to the demanding cries of: “I WANT SOME STICKERS!” I was pretty sure all was okay at that point.
I was pretty shaken myself. I felt the need to call my family on the East Coast, even though no one was hurt. My sister responded by sending me this post, which kismet-ically appeared the same day as the accident. Thus started my Baby's First Year blog experience.*
I'd like not to think of myself as an opportunist since the circumstances were what they were, and I can't fully blame my accident on being sleep-deprived, but in this case some seriously scary lemons became some really good lemonade.
*My sister writes for Babble, too.