"I'm So Calling 911"

Michelle said as we sat in our baby CPR class trying to breath life into the plastic babies on the desks in front of us. Is it one rescue breath and then five chest compressions or twenty chest compressions and then two rescue breaths? Should I adopt the 2000 standard procedure or the 2005, that our instruction admitted she herself had not been trained in, but was telling us anyway. Will I remember to:

1) tap baby to rouse, never shake!!
2) tilt head
3) listen for breathing
4) start rescue breath
5) look for signs of movement
6) repeat
7) Call 911
8) leave door open for EMS
9) Freak out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OK, I added the freak out, but seriously, how can you not? Is it really possible to stay calm and focused when your baby is bordering on dead? Am I really going to remember to do everything in order? Will my inner "ubermom" come out when faced with pending disaster?

And then, let's move to the "babyproofing". Do I really need to install a toilet seat latch? You know, those contraptions that lock the seat to the bowl that even rocket scientists can't open. The ones that fill you with fear when you see because you either have to figure it out before your bladder explodes or slink back to your host/hostess and say "Ummmm.....I need some help in the bathroom..." and then sheepishly follow them into the bathroom and watch the "I am superior" look on their face as they unlock in one easy press and turn to you and say "voila!!". The only way to avoid this humiliating experience is to "relieve" yourself somewhere other than the toilet - the bathtub perhaps??

Note to all of my friends and family: DO NOT DO THIS IN MY HOUSE!!!!!!!!

Seriously, I do not plan on purchasing the toilet seat lock. Socket protectors, yes. That, and I think I'll just wear the baby in my soon to be purchased hip carrier until she is 18.