I snapped this photo as evidence that I Am Getting The Hang Of This Two Kids At Home Thing, slowly but surely. Since reducing Noah's preschool attendance, Tuesdays and Thursdays have not exactly been my favorite or most productive days. But here! Look! The whole still-in-pajamas-thing aside, this is a nice little moment. Two brothers equally intrigued by Elmo videos on YouTube, and no one is crying or whining or jumping on the baby's head. (Full disclosure: that kind of happened yesterday.)
30 minutes later I was performing the Heimlich on Noah, who thought it would be fun to shove an entire fruit bar into his mouth, bit by bit, chewing but not swallowing, forming a golf-ball-sized gooey mass of airway-blocking goodness. And THEN he thought it would be even MORE fun to run away from me when I realized what he'd done and instructed him to spit it out before he choked on it.
And then he choked on it. Not gagging, not gasping, just a few seconds of terrible silence while his eyes bugged out and his mouth hung open and his hands flapped in a panic. And I thanked God for all those painful mornings at my old office when I stood in the kitchen and stared blankly at the Emergency Medical Procedures posters on the wall while waiting for the stupid coffee to brew. I calmly whacked on his back and then thrust up on his belly until we both sat panting on the floor and there was vomit everywhere and the mass formerly known as a fruit bar and I realized it had never even occurred to me to be scared until it was all over and HOLY SHIT THAT JUST ACTUALLY HAPPENED.
Noah wanted a hug and another fruit bar. I told him he could have the hug.
Adult supervision required.