Monday, November 5, 2012


I almost lost him.  The whole experience was only about 2 minutes long, possibly only a minute, and yet its now a defining moment in my 2 years as a parent, in my roughly 10 years as an adult!
The day was going as it normally does.  Ezra being his typical 2 year old self, banging, throwing, singing, etc.  We were running late and came through the door in a whirlwind, gotta get baby in bed was the only thought on my brain.  So I left him to play while I put her down for her nap.  She was mostly asleep, in that pivotal moment where eyes were heavy and she was ready to drift off, as long as nothing distracted her.  I heard a double-bang, loud enough to make the eyes widen slightly, but go back to closing. 
I don't know about you, but around here, a bang really doesn't mean a whole lot.  But something about this particular bang, kicked my mommasense into gear.  I'm gonna say it was God, moreso than the noise.  I just needed to see what it was!  So I dropped baby into crib and believe me she let me hear about it.  But I went to track down big brother and when I first glanced into the living room, rather than seeing him playing my eyes went straight to the source of the bang--our back door. 
I've seldom felt a spike of adrenaline that pure.  I ran to the back door while my mind blazed a mile a minute--did I leave the door open when I came in and am now overreacting?  No, I DEFINITELY remember locking it.  He's never tried to go out before, or managed the bottom lock!  Even as I stuck my head out into our huge yard, yelling his name I was thinking, there hasn't even been enough time for him to disappear; he's probably busy flushing toilet paper down the toilet.  So I popped inside yelling his name, using my "game voice," the one most likely to elicit a response because it means something fun.  Nothing.  I ran outside, this time frantic.  Barely even scanning the yard I curved the side of our house down the driveway and-there.he.was.  Squatting by the hose, in perfect focus, wondering how he could get it to work completely ignoring screaming mother closing the ground between us faster than he's ever seen me move.
Still in panic mode I had him around the waist sprinting into the house at which point I went completely non-PC on his rear end.  Then he was bawling.  Then it was my turn.  We hugged.  I explained thoroughly why we don't EVER go outside by ourselves.  When Daddy came home Ezra told him all about it.  "Daddy, I scared Mommy!"  And then he was over it.  I'm still not.
The thing is, in that 60 second space, about a million different things happened in my mind, and I have NEVER been so scared in my life!  My chubby-cheeked toddler has no idea how many horrible fates his mother was able to conjure during her panicky search.  And he never will, unless he one day becomes a parent and experiences that same feeling.

I think this is probably a rite of passage.  Last week over the intercom at Ultra Foods they called for "______'s Mommy to the floral department."  I think most parents have that shaky, terrified moment when they realize their child, their charge, has wandered off or otherwise disappeared.  I mean, this isn't just me, right?  Maybe parents of only children won't agree, but after I had my second child a significant portion of my brain just dissolved, so I really don't think this is my fault!! 

New rule.  First step in the door we take off shoes, coat, hat, and socks, no matter the crying baby.  Hopefully lack of dexterity and freezing temperatures will be a strong enough deterrent for now.  Until my recent purchase arrives.  Who knew it was so hard to kidproof lever door handles!?

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