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Heart attack. I have had many as the mother of 4 boys. They aren't REAL medical issues, but you can't tell me that. There are unexpected messes,  forgotten appointments, and scares of rubber varmints hidden throughout the house. By far, the worst of these attacks happens when my kids get hurt or ALMOST get hurt.

I have been very blessed that my boys haven't faced too many traumas. When Jackson was in the 4th grade, he broke his 2 beautiful front teeth out in a mean game of Red Rover. Heart attack. When Riley was a few years old, he woke me up gasping for air. We spent a day in the hospital under a tent because he had croup. Heart attack. When Knox was 3, he fell off the bed and cracked his elbow. Heart attack. Then there is Mr. Asher. I should be dead already.

Asher's latest incident happened last night. I consider our house the most Asher-friendly place on Earth. There are still heart attack worthy moments though. Last night, I was cooking supper. My bedroom is around the corner from the kitchen. I kept checking on Asher and he was checking on me. He needed snacks and drinks and diaper changes and kisses. I returned to the stove and I hear him crying. He never cries. I run to find him wedged between my headboard and wall. His arms and head were caught above the top of the headboard while the rest of his body hung down behind it.

Why would he decide at that moment to try something new? He has never done that before. He likes pressure on his body. He has wedged himself between the footboard and mattress at my parents' house while watching cartoons, but he had to actually climb up my headboard. The space was so tight that I could barely pull him up. I was too busy saving him, that I didn't have time to think about how serious it was until he was out. He had marks on his arms and on the side of his face. The marks have faded but my thoughts about it have not.

He cannot speak. He cannot yell for help. He cannot answer me when I call his name.

We are working on his speech through therapy. He is improving everyday. There is no therapy for fear. He doesn't understand that things are dangerous. We have worked on learning about the stove. He knows it is hot, but he doesn't understand hot. He can learn certain things about specific objects, but that doesn't carry over to other things. Yet.

It will get better,  but it's draining. Some days I need resuscitation.

How did he do it?

That face though❤