This has been one of the most terrifying days of my life.

This morning the power went off at 2:30am. Ian came into our room saying his computer turned off, and then *BAM*, off went the power. We called TECO, who told us that they hoped to have the power fixed by 6:30am. Fantastic.

I slept restlessly for the rest of the night because Ian was smashed up against me, and then at 5:30am the power came back on. That would have been great, but all the TVs turn on when the power comes back on. I raced into Roo's room to turn her TV off, but it was too late- she was up.

I went to leave for work at 6:30am. The first thing I usually do is turn up the air before I leave, so imagine my surprise when I find out the thermostat isn't registering. Sean comes home and flips all sorts of switches, goes into the attic.. Nothing. We fight about the paperwork because I don't have it, even though I have every single piece of paper he asked for, it was obvious that I lost this piece of paper and it was all my fault. Um, whatever.

I was exhausted the rest of the day. Sean called to tell me that they'd be by to fix the air "sometime". I leave work and pick up the kids. I feel like I've been hit by a car.

I decide to get gas so that I don't have to be bothered in the morning. As we're driving there Ian says, "Daddy lets me help with the gas. Can I help?" I say sure, he can press the buttons on the pump. He follows directions wonderfully and then asks why the numbers go either fast or slow. I let him hold the nozzle and explain how, the harder you squeeze, the faster the numbers go. I turned my back for ONE SECOND to look at the numbers, and I hear and smell the gasoline pouring out of the car. I grab him away, but he's drenched. It's in his eyes, in his mouth, down his clothes... and he's sobbing. At first it was fear, but then it turned into pain screaming. I grab his hand and go to Roo's side of the car. I'm trying to think of what to do, so I take a second to breathe and center myself. I get Roo out of the car, get my purse and my keys out of the ignition, and take them both into the gas station.

The people there were fantastic. I didn't say a word, but they obviously knew what happened. One of the women followed me into the bathroom and held Roo while I scrubbed Ian down, then she left to get some eyewash for him. I let her take Roo with her which was hard for me to do, but Roo was fine with her so I knew she was an OK person. He was OK after a while, but I was terrified. I've never been so scared!

Until I got home. I put Ian in the tub and put Roo in her Bumpy chair. I went to put Ian's clothes in the wash, and he suddenly started screaming, "Mommy, she's choking! She's turning red, Mommy!" I run in and Roo's eyes were bugging out of her head. She was drooling and gagging, so I pulled her out of the chair and tried to remember my CPR training. I did a finger sweep of her mouth, then tilted her over my arm to do thrusts. She vomitted, so I carried her back to living room so I could lay her out incase I needed to do CPR. Ian's screaming, my heart is pounding, I have the phone in one hand to call 9-1-1... I do one more finger sweep and I managed to pull out a piece of plastic wrap.

At that point, since both children are alive and within my sight, I just started to cry. I must have sobbed for a full 5 minutes before I could even gather my thoughts together.

I feel like I had been shown in no uncertain terms, that the rest of this stuff is just that; stuff. It doesn't matter what happens as long as those people nearest to my heart are safe. The rest of it will all fall into place, one way or another.