I "punched" my time card out at 7:00 pm. It was Thursday night, December 2nd, 2010. It was a long day with the kids (especially whinny). I took Evan who had just fallen asleep to watch some TV. Jake had the kids wrestling as I tip toed down the stairs, taking the littlest one so that Daddy wasn't doing it all by himself. I thought I was helping. A few minutes later, I am downstairs flipping channels and getting mixed loud commercials. I hear a thud from upstairs, then Jacob raise his voice, then muffled voices. I hear Kelton scream my name (figuring Daddy got to rough and he's complaining to me from the top of the stairs). I hear my name 3 times, I start to feel worried, I listen harder to see if the hollaring continues. Then I hear Chase crying at the top of the stairs and feel the distinct impression that I need to get upstairs now. Something is wrong. I quickly walk up the stairs and hear Chase crying, "I can't breathe either" and there's some vomit near the top. I look down to see him and Jacob yells, "It's not him! It's her!" He refers to our 2 year old, redish blonde hair hanging in her face, vomit and foam coming from her mouth. Jacob is shaking, he hands her to me, and I expect her to have some solidity to her feet. She's loose and as I look into her eyes, I immediately see her BLUE lips, ROLLING eyes and I tell Jacob to call 911. I grab her by the chin, swipe my hand thru her mouth, ask if he's performed the hymlic and turn her over to thrust my plam into her back. I give her three loud THUDs. She tenses, I feel her tighten, like she's in pain. I figure pain is better than the limp figure she was. I turn her back to her mouth and assist her in standing(ish). I stare at her lips, waiting for air to be inhaled...waiting...waiting. I kept thinking, "No, this isn't happening, No! Breathe!!!" She's crying, tearing streaming down her face, her eyes are vibrantly searching for something, something she can't find. Then she locks on my eyes and gets a slight bit of air, the same bit someone would get when crying so hard they can hardly breathe. But it was air! She was gaining rigidity in some of her limbs, enough to raise her arm to her mouth and vomit again.
Chase had come in front of me while I was holding and trying to help my dying child. He vomitted after seeing her loose her dinner. He was crying, Kelton was still by the stairs. My world had narrowed, but I didn't feel out of control. (Jacob hadn't dialed 911 since he was watching and all of this had happened in 10 seconds or less) I hollared that she was breathing...as more vomit covered the floor. Chase was finally done. After I asked Taelin if she was scared, chase replied (as he walked away), "I throw up when I'm so scared." Taelin, perked up quickly (20 seconds) after getting that vital sip of air, vomitting more then getting large gasps. She remained near me, as I stripped her clothes off she replied that she got carrots all over her clothes. It was icky. I asked if she was ok. She said yes, mommy. I asked if it hurt when Daddy put his finger down her throat, she said he didn't. She said she threw up by daddy, and then threw up by me. I can only determine she passed out. I held her for a little while, she hugged back undaunted, but caucious.
As Jacob and I began to clean up the mess (after he calmed down from shaking and a racing heart), she bounced around a little and the light returned to her eyes. After the kids went to bed, we checked on her more often to make sure she was still breathing, just in case. I crawled into bed with her later that night, held her a little longer, snuggled a little more and cried softly in her bed. My patience had really been struggling with her lately. Her whine, her nag, her bossiness. But for that moment, I just prayed to my Heavenly Father with fervrent pleadings to forgive the hardness of my heart, to forgive my selfishness. I felt ashamed that it had taken such a life and death moment to snap me into reality of my actions.
I felt that moments of life seem to be taken for granted. There really are only mere threads of time that matter from life to death. Life is fragile; I've heard people say. But when life and death moments take place before you, and you see how quickly the situation could have gone for worse, you see the fragile nature before your eyes, and feel it as a lump of your throat.
To the Jansen Kids, Love Santa. 
What a good lookin' man. I love this guy. Admist all the chaios the day brings, he stayed chill, opened/put together presents, changed diapers and kept sane. We had a yummy soup bar (we all brought crock pots) and had yummy bread bowls. What a great relax day!
my oh my how time has flown with this sweetie. he's a blessing. such a mellow jello that reminds me of all the good things in life.
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