911, What's your emergency?

For the 23 years that I lived at my parents house, I never called 911, nor did anyone else in my family--to the best of my knowledge, anyway. Well, in the last year and a half, 911 has been called at my house 4 times!

The first time I called 911 was when I witnessed "the ucky man" (aka the creepy cat man that lives a few doors down) yelling and screaming and threatening the lady that lives behind me. I wasn't about to go out there because Liam was a small baby at that point (small meaning age--as he's never been small in size ;) ). So, I decided the best thing to do would be to call 911. They didn't end up coming out because the situation diffused itself by the time I was done talking to the operator.

The second time I called 911 was a time when Rori woke up and she was fairly lethargic. She just didn't seem like herself. All she wanted to do was lay on the couch. Then she started to shake a bit and gagged and some foamy phlegmish stuff came out of her mouth. It was very scary to me because our precious dog, Leia had died from some kind of seizure and that topped with my "awareness of the fragility of life" (see previous post) I freaked out. So, I called 911, and this time they came out. They came with a fire truck and ambulance. I had told the operator that I thought she was fine, but they wanted to check her out anyway. While I was waiting for them, I called Bill and my mom. Bill immediately told me he was coming home. The paramedics came and were super nice. They checked her out for about 15 minutes and she was indeed okay. So, we all went on the couch and snuggled. Then I saw Bill racing up the driveway and flying through the house. And I thought to myself, "oops, I forgot to call him and tell him everything was ok." Yeah, I was a little stressed, and thought somehow he knew. I still feel badly about that. Sorry, babe.

The third time 911 was called, Rori had gotten her leg stuck in the baby gate. My mom was watching the kids and Rori had somehow slipped and gotten her leg stuck in the gate, which was metal. She was getting hysterical, which made Liam hysterical. My mom couldn't get her leg out and thought it might be bleeding so she called 911. She got her leg out before they came, but again, they were very nice and checked her out.

The fourth time was yesterday. Rori and I were out at the farm we had gone to the previous weekend and Bill was home not feeling well. His mom was watching Liam. She brought him back for his nap and by then Bill was feeling better. After Liam's nap, Bill and Liam were playing. At some point, a police officer showed up at the door. He asked if someone had called 911. Bill said, "no." The officer asked if someone had been playing with the phone--as Bill was holding Liam. Bill realized that Liam had been playing with the phone and must have dialed 911! The officer said they thought that was the case--Liam must have been babbling to the operator, but they had to check it out anyway. Although, frankly, Bill said that Liam hadn't played with the phone for like 15 minutes so it took them a long time to come check it out. What if Liam had been one of those kids that knew to call 911 in emergency, but wasn't able to talk yet? Fortunately everything was alright :)

So, I'm starting to think we are developing a relationship with the 911 people. I wonder if we should add them to our Christmas list?