They Call Me The Fireman...

So the past few weeks I have been toying with the idea of starting a blog. Now, this initially was so that I could keep my sanity and have documentation of all the second chances I'm getting and making for myself lately. As most of you who will follow this will know, in the past 2 months I have

• Quit teaching...after 4 years...yep! I'm a statistic.
• Moved
• Started college again
• And as of a couple weeks ago- I'm single parenting a 1 1/2 year old because my husband has decided to stay in Olathe to continue working...

Am I crazy, you ask?!? Uh, YEAH! Certifiably INSANE actually.
So after the past couple weeks of this whole carnival ride- I've had a few "adventures" that I figure, are too good NOT to blog about. SO here goes....

They Call Me The Fireman...
Well, not exactly ME but I did call the fireman yesterday. On my toddler. You will notice the cute pictures of "Splash Park" around this blog. What you will NOT notice are the yellow benches that are metal and located around Splash Park for parents to sit on. They are shaped like chairs and have a space between each chair in a set of 3. A space just perfect for a child's leg to slip right in, but not come out!
We had just gotten to the park and I had set Mason on the bench to fix his shoe when his little leg slipped right in. I didn't think much of it at first, I just tugged a little. It was Stuck! I started trying to pull, without hurting him. He began crying and unfortunately, I wasn't very surprised after about 3 minutes that all the FAT COWS Sitting on the benches next to me were indeed staring pretty hard at my child and I who were obviously in a bit of a predicament...but didn't offer to help. Now, as most of you know...my child tends to mix up sounds...so "Chip" actually comes out "bitch"....in this moment of needing to stay perfectly calm, all I really WANTED to do was yell "HEY YOU FREAKING CHIPS!!! A LITTLE HELP HERE!?!?"...Now my mama taught me a little better than that...so I politely asked for help and one lady came with a bottle of water and immediately started drenching him. More screaming bloody murder, more unhappiness. Another grandmaly figure came over and offered to call the fire department. Perfect. Lights, sirens...and a possible good looking man (I'm married...not dead) thinking I'm a ridiculous excuse for a mom. Fabulous. Let's do it! Dial the dang number.
FINALLY after about 10 minutes of this nonsense, the fire department shows up...WITH the Ambulance! (again, nobody's dead) At this point, everyone in the WORLD is looking at me. However, another GENIUS of a mother comes sauntering up, squirts some Hand sanitizer (we like to call this lady MacGyver) on his leg and it slips right out. He stops crying and all is well. The EMT's INSIST that they look him over, mostly because they felt useless, I think. He checks out. Today, he doesn't even have a bruise. Oh by the way...Firemen may be hot on calendars, but from my own experience- NONE of them are from Riley county.