Today did not begin very auspiciously.
It all began last evening, when my almost 2 year old, who is Kid #3 and my last baby, announced she was sleeping in her big girl bed. Which, I was fairly unprepared for on many levels. Considering she has never even hit the 0 percentile for height, it felt like I was laying a newborn pygmy chimp in a California King. She waved to me amongst a sea of fluffy pillows and blankies that the American Academy of Pediatrics has banned until adolescence and said “See u mornin Mommee!”*
Therefore, I slept fitfully with one eye opened waiting to hear the thump of my 2-foot sack of flour baby girl hitting the floor. (Not a peep until 6:37 am, and she didn’t clammer out of bed. She simply repeated my name 3 dozen times.)
Translation: I was hardly refreshed and not on my “A game” when I awoke at 5:34 am this morning. And, of course, my husband was on his perpetual business trip.
So, 8:30 am rolled around and I began my daily screech of “socks on, shoes on…load ’em up”. It is not unusual that I had to repeat- an octave higher and pitch louder- about 3 times before I usually heard The Oldest start his thumpity decent down the stairs.
Not this morning.
Strange. I had sent him upstairs 5 minutes before to get dressed, as I did every morning. Was he in the bathroom? Not in the bathroom. Maybe he went to the basement to make sure his Wii was still intact? Not in the basement. Was he already in the car? Possibly! Nope- not in the car.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled up. This was unusual. Especially for my very dependable, type A, people pleasing Firstborn. (I wouldn’t have even though twice about Kid #2 and Kid#3. They kind of disappear throughout the day, but always show back up.)
I opened the front door, the side door, and the sliding glass door and shouted his name (sorry, neighbors). I had worked up such frenzy that Kid #2 took notice and emerged from the coat closet he was hiding in with my IPad and joined my search. Kid #3 just continued to blissfully lick sticky Honey Nut Cheerios off the floor.
9 minutes and 27 seconds had passed- I had searched everywhere and was in hysterics. Wasn’t this a CSI episode I had seen in 2003? Someone had clearly come into the house and taken The Oldest. I was having flashbacks to when I saw his first bottom tooth emerge and when he would sing to me about “the golden triangle of destiny”.
I was blubbering crying by this point and had hit the first “1” of 9-1-1, when the side door to the house burst open.
“Oh, hi Mom! I needed to get some exercise, so I was running laps outside the fence. Here’s the newspaper!”
Someone once told me Motherhood was wild ride…clearly I am hanging on by my pinkies.
* There are people in Tallahassee that just spit their wine out on their laptops. Yes, that is Gregg’s old ratty guest room quilt from the mid-nineties. Yes, those are the sheets to The Oldest’s top bunk. Yes, there is no pillowcase on that pillow…