For the past few weeks an icy patch has covered part of our driveway. Whenever I’m taking the baby to the car, instead of walking in a straight line, which would cross the slippery area, I would walk around the ice and into some slush, which at least provides a little traction.

One of my recent fears involves falling while holding the baby. I’ve often stared at that icy patch and imagined what to do in case I slipped. I visualized positioning myself landing on my back and holding the baby up in the air. If I fell forward, I would twist my body around. If I slipped back, all I would have to do is brace the baby with my arms as I hit the ground.

Some warmer weather has graced us recently (50 degrees!), and the icy patch has since melted. It has been a relief not having to worry about slipping and falling with the baby. Or the baby biffing it while she walks around. To be fair, we haven’t been outside all that much, so we really haven’t created an opportunity for this type of accident.

Before this warm front were some cold, hazy days, and before that there was the Super Bowl. Our family went down to my inlaws’ to watch the game. A bunch of us gathered around the TV in the basement. Some people sat on the floor. No one sat in the barstools. Reilly and I sat on the couch, and Z was playing next to it.

I stood up to take Z to go potty. Picked her up and started toward the bathroom. One of the dogs was lying between the couch and the nearest barstool. In order to get to the bathroom, I had to step over the dog.

Some part of my foot caught the dog’s back, and I felt myself losing balance. Tilting backward, I grabbed onto the back of the nearest barstool, hoping to keep myself from falling. Barstools spin. The seat of the barstool gave in to the weight I exerted on it, so Z and I spun with it. Instead of falling back toward the couch, Z and I were now falling toward the middle of the room.

All I knew was what I’d visualized on that icy patch in the driveway: hold the baby towards the sky. When my body had slumped with my back and legs on the ground, the baby was at the end of my outstretched arms, unharmed.

Everyone was fine in this little accident, though I can’t speak for my mother-in-law, because MY HEAD LANDED IN HER LAP. Or somewhere on her legs. That was embarrassing. The dog was fine, too.

Halftime (as controversial(?) as it was), commercials, and the game itself did not offer as much excitement as tripping over the dog, landing on my mother-in-law, and keeping the baby safe. Still in play. Touchdown.