mom autopilot

There is that moment as a mom. Where you see your child right in front of you, but just out of reach as it is happening. When your body goes into mom autopilot and you move before you can even think to move. But you still can't make your feet move any faster. I watched her reach for the hot cup of coffee from across the room and gasped as she grabbed it from the table that should have been out of her reach, turning it upside down as she pulled it off. I heard her scream as the hot liquid hit her face and I ran to grab it away from her, scooping her up and running with her to the sink. My body knew to turn on the cold water and spray her face with the sink hose when all I could think was "Oh my God, her face. Oh my God."

Thank God for being at the house of another mom who acted in the same quiet, calm mom movements, testing the coffee temperature and giving me a silent look that let me know it was way too hot. Who quickly followed me up the stairs and turned on the cold water in her tub without needing explanation. Who yelled down to Brian to call our friend who is a PA before I could even finish the sentence. Who quickly packed Lila snacks and a fresh sippy cup of water as I watched the allover redness from her screaming fade away and the angry red burn mark outline appear. Who stopped and had her husband pray over Lila before we whisked her out the door to the Emergency Room. 

I held it together until my parents arrived, racing into the parking lot just moments after us, seeing the look on her face and knowing I did not exaggerate on the phone. And then the tears started to fall. The nurse quickly assessed us and by then, Lila was able to focus on the Ritz crackers and singing songs in her G's (grandpa) lap while we prayed for the doctor to hurry up. While we were waiting, our sweet friend Josh walked into the ER holding an adorable stuffed monkey and a talking Minnie Mouse. He apparently had left his house where we were not long after us, ran over to Target and came by just to try and do something to help. Thank God for friends and their sweet hearts. 

We watched the redness slowly start to fade and the doctor confirmed that by God's grace she had only suffered first degree burns (which apparently is not as bad as third degree...sneaky doctors labeling burn levels backwards). He said we were really lucky since he had seen coffee burns much worse than hers. He says lucky, I say covered in prayer. After several days of Ibuprofen for swelling and silver burn cream, it just looks like a small sun burn. My heart is slowing returning to a normal beat, helped by the little one giving her new Minnie big kisses on the nose.

You want to protect your child from pain, and what you get instead is life, and grace; and though theologians insist that grace is freely given, the truth is that sometimes you pay for it through the nose. 

And you can't pay your child's way. "

~Anne Lamott