Remembering that day

Sarah says:

I'm not drinking tonight.  First, because I don't want you guys to start thinking I'm an alcoholic.  Second, I just don't feel the need.

All that thinking about the corn in the ear last week and how I felt like the worst Mom in the world for making Liam suffer for that long, got me thinking about my true “worst Mom day”.  Sure, there have been stressful days that my patience was running slim and I yelled at the kids, when I probably should have taken a few deep breaths instead.  Or there’s been those days when I just didn’t have the energy to play games and be creative with them, so I let them watch TV for hours.  There’s also been the crazy, over-protective, shelter my kid days, and I look back and think that I should have let them just live and learn.  Those seem like nothing compared to this one day.

  

They were this old!

My truest “worst Mom day” was Sunday, April 25, 2010.  The worst day ever, I will never forget it.  Liam was 2 (well, it was 1 week before his 3^rd birthday, but technically he was still 2!), and Mary was about 15 months.  It was the early afternoon, Jon was working, I had taken the kids to Target for a quick trip (but since it was Target we probably spent more time there than expected, which means Liam had some pent up energy).  We got home and I got Liam out of the car, (he sits on the side closest to the door) took him right inside the door, and told him to take off his shoes and go potty while I got Mary out.  I went back to the car for Mary (so now I’m on the side of the car farthest from the house door), pull her out and our things and go back inside.  I start putting things away and call for Liam to come to the kitchen for a snack.  He doesn’t respond, but I figure he’s playing somewhere.  A few minutes later I call him again.  No response.  One more call to him, and one more silent response.  So I go looking for him, in all the usual spots, his room, the playroom…. then I start checking the unusual spots, our bedroom, various closets.  No Liam.

At this point, I’m starting to panic.  I opened the door to see if he’s in the backyard, and I immediately see his tracks from his wagon wheels going down the driveway.  Adrenalin sets in and I take off down the street faster than I have ever run in my life.  I actually see him two blocks away turning into the park entrance.  I scream at him to stop but of course he doesn’t hear; he’s happily pushing his wagon around when I finally catch up to him.  I rush over to him, pick him up, plop him in the wagon and get back home asap.

I cannot explain the feelings that rush through you when your baby is missing, even if it is just a couple of minutes.  It's absolutely, without a doubt, the worst feeling ever.  It’s terrifying, your stomach completely drops, and you start shaking.  Even worse than the moment were I didn't know where he was at all, was the moment where I saw him enter the park, but I coudn't see him.  What if something happened to him in those few moments before I got to him.  I'd never forgive myself.  I was so close to him, yet I felt so far away.  And then those feelings when you see that they are ok, it’s overwhelming.  I’m not sure I can even remember it all.  I know I cried… a lot.  I know I yelled at him, kissed and hugged him, told him I loved him, and then yelled at him some more.  Then I probably cried some more. 

BUT – that’s not all that happened that day.  It gets worse.  Liam isn’t my only kid.  Remember Mary, yeah, so she’s all alone at home the whole time I’m out getting Liam.  I know leaving a 15 month old home alone isn’t exactly suggested, but when your 2 year old is running down a main road by himself, (yes, main road, we don’t live in a subdivision, we live on a busy main road), crossing streets to get to the park, you kind of forget about following the rules.  So, I get back home, open the door, and there’s Mary, standing there, in a pile of glass.  Somehow one of the dining room chairs fell backwards, hit the window, shattered it, and she’s just standing there in it.

Seriously, Worst Mom Day ever!  I was still trying to comprehend what just happened with first baby, and now I’m dealing with my second baby in danger.  I quickly scoop her up and get her and Liam into another room so I can figure out what to do.  I think I called Jon, and cried.  Eventually, I cleaned up the window, taped a big garbage bag over it until we could get it fixed.  Then I just sat with Liam and Mary and held them tight for a while. 

I’m pretty sure how it all happened.  When I was on the other side of the car getting Mary out, Liam snuck out the door and into the back yard to get the wagon.  When I went inside, he took off down the driveway.  As for Mary, she was at walking age, but still falling and grabbing onto things to save her.  She probably toddled into the dining room, but started to fall so she grabbed onto a chair to stop herself, which caused it to fall backwards and break the window.

I realized later how lucky I was, I really believe God had his hand in how things worked out for me.  It happened to have rained earlier in the day.  The driveway was dry, but the grass was still wet.  Liam took his wagon to the park, the ONLY way I knew he left the house was by the wagon tracks going down the driveway.  Had it not rained, the wheels wouldn’t have been wet, and those tracks would not have been there.  Also, the fact that Liam took his wagon at all was a blessing.  Those tracks also allowed me to know which way down the driveway he turned (thank God he turned and didn’t go straight!), otherwise I could have headed in the complete wrong direction.  Also, I happened to see Liam about 2 seconds before he turned into the park entrance.  Had I wasted anymore time looking for him around the house, I would have missed that, and wouldn’t have known how far to run (because those wagon tracks dried up just outside the driveway).  I had just finished loosing 20 lbs. and had picked up running about 6 weeks earlier.  6 weeks earlier, I couldn’t have run to the end of the corner, let alone sprinted to the park.  Mary was 15 months old, a very curious age.  Once the window broke she didn’t move.  She didn’t walk, she didn’t touch anything, she didn’t put anything in her mouth.  Mary is always walking, running, falling, touching, eating.  The fact that she chose that 5 minutes to refrain from any of that is beyond me.  That window could have seriously injured something.  I should also add, that I also find it quite amazing that Oscar didn’t get hurt or lost during any of this.  99.99% of the time when I would walk through the door, he'd come running and follow my every move.  This was the 00.01% that instead of doing that, he choose to just lay on the couch.  He didn’t run out of the house, he didn’t examine the broken glass, he just sat.



And now they are this old!

Babies in danger = worst feelings ever.  In those moments everything else seems so insignificant.  I cannot imagine what I’d do if something serious happened to either of them.  They are my world, every single decision I make somehow involves me thinking about how it will impact them.  Moments like that also make you realize how special life is.  It’s way too precious to waste.  There is a quote by Oprah that I love, “Breathe. Let go. And remind yourself that this very moment is the only one you know you have for sure.”  I’m trying to live by that more often, especially around the kids.  It’s very easy to get stressed out with them, but sometimes you just have to take a deep breath, let go, and enjoy the moment.  It could all change in a moment.  I keep that day in the back of my mind as a reminder.

What day will you never forget?

Ugh… remembering all those emotions is exhausting, maybe I do need wine!