Today left me wondering if I am fit for motherhood at all. It started out as a fairly common day. The usual chores, schoolwork, and childhood bickering were taking place. When I served lunch and sat down to enjoy it with my little ones I noticed Buddy #2's ear looked strange. The canal looked slight darker and more cavernous than usual. Upon closer inspection I realized the hole wasn't wider but rather plugged with a grey mush which turned out to be the kids' recently acquired modeling clay. My little boy had found a foolish yet inventive way of blocking out 'girl noise'. He explained the he was trying to play his game but the "the sisters" kept "annoying" him with their "loudness." Being a firm believer that one should never stick anything larger than an elbow inside of their ear, I cringed at the thought of getting the goop out. My mind kept going back to 1982 when my sister and I got our first Operation game for Christmas. As a six-year-old I hadn't quite attained the dexterity needed to win the game or even remove one bone successfully. So picturing myself inserting a pair of tweezers into the sensitive cavity of a real human who would scream instead of buzz if I touched the sides was unpleasant to say the least. As it turned out, with the sheer amount of gunk jammed in there I never got close to skin.
Later on in the afternoon the 10 year-old had to "go to work" at the library and the 6 year-old decided she'd like to go with her. The 7 year-old asked to play with her friends over at the school across the road. This is the normal routine for most weekdays and is carried out without much thought. My children know the rules: always be with someone else (a sibling or friend), stay where you can hear me if I call for you, and always come home before dark. They know this but sometimes things happen....
Just after 4 o'clock, the 10 year-old called from the library to ask if she and her littlest sister could go to a friends' house for dinner. While I was on the phone the 7 year-old came in the house to use the bathroom and then ran back to the park. At about 4:45 I saw the sun starting to set and decided it was a good time to call her home. I stood on the front porch and beckoned her. She didn't answer me but I retreated to the warmth of the house and expected her to come running in as usual. Five minutes later when she hadn't returned I called again purposefully adding a sense of urgency in my voice. She still did not answer. I thought perhaps she was laughing and talking with her friends so I went out to the end of the driveway to call louder. I can see the park from the end of my driveway and there didn't seem to be any life on the equipment. I walked up the road a bit to get a closer look...nothing. I ran back into the house to grab a jacket and tell the boys to stay put for a minute while I went tokill get their (now in trouble) sister across the street.
The park was empty. Empty, empty. Not even a soul to ask if they'd seen her. I ran back to the house to call the 10 year-old. When she answered I asked if she'd seen her between the library and her friend's house. She said she had and even told me the girl she'd been playing with. I tried calling the girl's house but no one answered. But this time every worst-case scenario played on a continuous reel in my minds' eye. I decided to drive up to the girl's house to see if maybe they had gone there but weren't answering the phone when the 10 year-old called back.
"Mom, I know where she is!" she said. "She's building snow forts in the ditch at the school, she probably can't hear you calling!"
"No, dear..." I said trying desperately not to sound as panicked as I was, "I was just at the park, she's not there."
Now my mind turned from scenes of abduction to suffocating snow collapsing on my baby. It was much darker then which only served to fuel my panic..
"They know they're not allowed to stay out past dark!" My mind kept repeating.
I put the boys coats and boots on over their PJ's, threw them in the van and continued on to the girl's house trying to plan a course of action with what was left of my reason. I ran up to the unlit front door and knocked like a mad woman. The girl's brother informed me that she had left the park quite some time before and went to the library and my daughter was not with her. Just then I noticed a car pull up in front of the driveway..a police cruiser. I was still freaking out but I allowed slight relief to enter my clouded psyche. The owner of the house (and the girl's father) happens to be an OPP officer. I ran to meet him in the driveway and managed to blurt out,
"I can't find my daughter!"
This was when I succumbed to the tears that had been threatening to flow since the ordeal started. It had now been over 45 minutes since I had first called her and I was giving in to terror. My friend listened calmly as I filled him in on the details that I knew and gave me the instruction to go home and leave a note for my daughter in case she returned letting her know that we were looking for her. He said he would go to the library to ask his daughter if she knew anything.
The darkness was thick by this time adding to my dread. I ran into the house and scribbled a note in orange crayon,
We're looking for you! If you come home STAY HERE!
I was back out the door in a flash. I got back into the van not sure of where I planned to drive. As I approached the park, the vision of crumbling snow forts re-entered my mind. I screeched the van to a halt and jumped out. I ran to the mounds of disturbed snow with the intention of digging through it with my bare hands. I decided to call one more time and listen for her muffled cry begging me to save her from certain death. I cupped my hands to my mouth and strained my voice to yell as loud as I possibly could. I fell silent hoping to hear something....anything. Finally, I heard a small voice in the distance...
"Ya?"
Ya. She said "ya." An hour of searching, several hundred tears, wild imaginings, panicked siblings, police involvement, and she says "ya."
"Where have you been?!!!!!" I yelled across the long field I could now see her darting through. As she was running the familiar back and white cruiser pulled into the parking lot. "I have her, she's here! And she's sooo grounded!" I called to the open window. My friend reassured me that these things happen and he had gone through the same thing with his son the year before. As my daughter approached she saw the tear streaked look on my face and obeyed immediately without even a questioning look when I directed her to get in the van. I thanked my friend for his help, apologized for the trouble, and dragged my weary body back into my vehicle.
My daughter was sitting in the middle seat bawling her little eyes out. "I'm scared, Mama! What's wrong?" I explained to her the sequence of events I had just gone through. She had been playing in the snow fort, she hadn't heard me calling, and she thought her big sister was going to come back and get her when she got home from the library. After an intense (and tear filled) but loving lecture reminding her of our family rules for playing outside there were many, many hugs and kisses.
Hubby came home from work and heard the whole story finding it rather amusing that I worked myself into such a frenzy. We put the kids to bed and I was starting to feel my composure returning as we relaxed on the couch. All of a sudden Buddy #1 yelled from the bottom of the stairs. I called him up to chastise him for being out of bed. When he rounded the corner I could see immediately why he was yelling. On his left cheek right under his eye was a golf ball sized welt with a bloody mass in the center of it. He had been playing on his bed when one of the sisters turned off the light. He was completely unprepared and smacked his cheek on the headboard of the bottom bunk. He wasn't crying nor did he seem overly disturbed by it at all. However, I felt my composure starting to crack all over again. My husband started laughing! (the nerve!) and told the Buddy to get to bed before Mama ended up in the loony bin. So nice to have that support.
Later on in the afternoon the 10 year-old had to "go to work" at the library and the 6 year-old decided she'd like to go with her. The 7 year-old asked to play with her friends over at the school across the road. This is the normal routine for most weekdays and is carried out without much thought. My children know the rules: always be with someone else (a sibling or friend), stay where you can hear me if I call for you, and always come home before dark. They know this but sometimes things happen....
Just after 4 o'clock, the 10 year-old called from the library to ask if she and her littlest sister could go to a friends' house for dinner. While I was on the phone the 7 year-old came in the house to use the bathroom and then ran back to the park. At about 4:45 I saw the sun starting to set and decided it was a good time to call her home. I stood on the front porch and beckoned her. She didn't answer me but I retreated to the warmth of the house and expected her to come running in as usual. Five minutes later when she hadn't returned I called again purposefully adding a sense of urgency in my voice. She still did not answer. I thought perhaps she was laughing and talking with her friends so I went out to the end of the driveway to call louder. I can see the park from the end of my driveway and there didn't seem to be any life on the equipment. I walked up the road a bit to get a closer look...nothing. I ran back into the house to grab a jacket and tell the boys to stay put for a minute while I went to
The park was empty. Empty, empty. Not even a soul to ask if they'd seen her. I ran back to the house to call the 10 year-old. When she answered I asked if she'd seen her between the library and her friend's house. She said she had and even told me the girl she'd been playing with. I tried calling the girl's house but no one answered. But this time every worst-case scenario played on a continuous reel in my minds' eye. I decided to drive up to the girl's house to see if maybe they had gone there but weren't answering the phone when the 10 year-old called back.
"Mom, I know where she is!" she said. "She's building snow forts in the ditch at the school, she probably can't hear you calling!"
"No, dear..." I said trying desperately not to sound as panicked as I was, "I was just at the park, she's not there."
Now my mind turned from scenes of abduction to suffocating snow collapsing on my baby. It was much darker then which only served to fuel my panic..
"They know they're not allowed to stay out past dark!" My mind kept repeating.
I put the boys coats and boots on over their PJ's, threw them in the van and continued on to the girl's house trying to plan a course of action with what was left of my reason. I ran up to the unlit front door and knocked like a mad woman. The girl's brother informed me that she had left the park quite some time before and went to the library and my daughter was not with her. Just then I noticed a car pull up in front of the driveway..a police cruiser. I was still freaking out but I allowed slight relief to enter my clouded psyche. The owner of the house (and the girl's father) happens to be an OPP officer. I ran to meet him in the driveway and managed to blurt out,
"I can't find my daughter!"
This was when I succumbed to the tears that had been threatening to flow since the ordeal started. It had now been over 45 minutes since I had first called her and I was giving in to terror. My friend listened calmly as I filled him in on the details that I knew and gave me the instruction to go home and leave a note for my daughter in case she returned letting her know that we were looking for her. He said he would go to the library to ask his daughter if she knew anything.
The darkness was thick by this time adding to my dread. I ran into the house and scribbled a note in orange crayon,
We're looking for you! If you come home STAY HERE!
I was back out the door in a flash. I got back into the van not sure of where I planned to drive. As I approached the park, the vision of crumbling snow forts re-entered my mind. I screeched the van to a halt and jumped out. I ran to the mounds of disturbed snow with the intention of digging through it with my bare hands. I decided to call one more time and listen for her muffled cry begging me to save her from certain death. I cupped my hands to my mouth and strained my voice to yell as loud as I possibly could. I fell silent hoping to hear something....anything. Finally, I heard a small voice in the distance...
"Ya?"
Ya. She said "ya." An hour of searching, several hundred tears, wild imaginings, panicked siblings, police involvement, and she says "ya."
"Where have you been?!!!!!" I yelled across the long field I could now see her darting through. As she was running the familiar back and white cruiser pulled into the parking lot. "I have her, she's here! And she's sooo grounded!" I called to the open window. My friend reassured me that these things happen and he had gone through the same thing with his son the year before. As my daughter approached she saw the tear streaked look on my face and obeyed immediately without even a questioning look when I directed her to get in the van. I thanked my friend for his help, apologized for the trouble, and dragged my weary body back into my vehicle.
My daughter was sitting in the middle seat bawling her little eyes out. "I'm scared, Mama! What's wrong?" I explained to her the sequence of events I had just gone through. She had been playing in the snow fort, she hadn't heard me calling, and she thought her big sister was going to come back and get her when she got home from the library. After an intense (and tear filled) but loving lecture reminding her of our family rules for playing outside there were many, many hugs and kisses.
Hubby came home from work and heard the whole story finding it rather amusing that I worked myself into such a frenzy. We put the kids to bed and I was starting to feel my composure returning as we relaxed on the couch. All of a sudden Buddy #1 yelled from the bottom of the stairs. I called him up to chastise him for being out of bed. When he rounded the corner I could see immediately why he was yelling. On his left cheek right under his eye was a golf ball sized welt with a bloody mass in the center of it. He had been playing on his bed when one of the sisters turned off the light. He was completely unprepared and smacked his cheek on the headboard of the bottom bunk. He wasn't crying nor did he seem overly disturbed by it at all. However, I felt my composure starting to crack all over again. My husband started laughing! (the nerve!) and told the Buddy to get to bed before Mama ended up in the loony bin. So nice to have that support.
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