Fruit Inspection

So my sister had dinner with us last night and she reminded me that I forgot to blog about the day, 2 weeks ago, where I almost ended up on the 6 o’clock evening news.

It was a familiar Friday. Too many deadlines and not enough time to do it all. I was having a bad week of Mommy Guilt as it was, spending far too many hours in the office, shooing my kids away and then fussing at them for destroying the house while I had my nose deep in the keyboard. Something HAD to give. I kept telling myself that Saturday was just around the corner and I promised them my undivided attention if they could just let me get finished.

Outside it was a beautiful day. I hated telling them they had to stay in, so I allowed them to play on the screened porch while I worked. I could hear them riding tricycles and scooters, and playing with the dog. Occasionally I’d hear an argument break out, but it wasn’t serious enough to warrant my going out to resolve it for them.

I continued to work the day away as they went in and out, in and out, grabbing snacks and water, and carrying toy after toy down from their rooms and out the door to play make believe. In the mid afternoon I called them inside to rest while watching a little TV. I figured they were tired and could use some downtime, maybe they would even take a short nap on the couch.

Not long afterwards I heard Emery in the bathroom. Actually I heard a “thud”, silence, then crying. I went in to see if he was alright. As I opened the door he immediately shouted “Mommy…Nooo!” You see, when Emery “does his business”, he doesn’t like for Mommy to be anywhere near “the smell”. He gets embarassed. So through the closed door I asked if he was okay. All I heard was sobbing.

When he came out he was still whimpering and I asked again what happened and was he okay? He wouldn’t answer me and I admit, I got aggravated with him. I explained that I’d like to help him but if he wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, there was nothing I could do. I told him that he could stay in the office with me if he could stop crying, but if he could not, then he needed to go into another room.

He turned and went up the stairs to his bedroom.

Fast forward about 30 minutes. Savannah runs into my office, “I can’t find Emery.”

“Well, don’t be silly, he’s got to be here somewhere. Did he go back outside?”, I asked.

She told me no and that she had looked everywhere. I really didn’t think there was anything to worry about, but given the panic in her voice, I decided to get up and help her look.

We called Emery’s name throughout every inch of the house. Twice! We went outside to all his favorite spots. Nothing. We came back in and checked the house once more. He had to be here somewhere!!!

Panic, bewilderment, and a sense of “is this really happening???” had begun to set in. I had taken the kids for a walk that morning in the neighborhood and I wondered if Emery thought he could go by himself. As I ran down the driveway I saw a county water truck. I flagged him down and asked him if he minded driving down the street to see if there was a 3 year old little boy walking around.

“I can’t find my son.” Those words hit me like a ton of bricks.

I raced back up the driveway calling my neighbor from my cell phone. I told her what was going on and asked her to check out her windows to see if she could see him. Emery has never so much as wandered from our yard. Where could he be???

I didn’t even want to think about my next stop. The lake. Our property backs up to a huge lake and although our yard is fenced in and both my kids have been lectured every day of their lives about NEVER going down there without an adult…well, we all know that sometimes curiosity gets the better of them. I had to go check the bank, just to be sure.

After calling his name and running through many sticker bushes, cutting my knees to pieces, I bolted back up to the house where my neighbor had come over to join in the search. She hugged me, which made me cry, which in turn made Savannah start to cry, so I pulled myseld together and asked her to help search the house again.

By this time the county water guy came back empty handed. Me, Savannah, and Nina yelled for Emery over every inch of our house. Top to bottom. We looked anywhere a 3 year old body might fit. Cupboards, bathtubs, closets, under beds, even in the dryer! He was nowhere to be found. We went outside one last time before I felt like I had to call the police and report him missing.

What a phone call that was! I could barely breathe. Savannah overheard me talking to 911. It upset her and she ran up to her room and flopped on the bed. I no sooner got done giving the operator my address and Emery’s description, when thoughts of what will be said about me on the evening news ran through my head. “Workaholic Mother Abandons 3 Year Old Child. Now Missing. News at 11.”

Then Savannah hollered, “I found him!!!!!”

I hung up as fast as I could and ran up to her room. And yes, this is the same room we had searched over and over again.

And there…in the corner…behind her Dora play kitchen…was Emery. On the floor, with his blankie, fast asleep.

Not knowing if he had hit his head earlier in the bathroom incident, I jostled him awake and he seemed to be fine. He had no idea we were even looking for him. I have never felt such relief!

Later on that night I did call my neighbor back to thank her for coming to my aid so quickly, without my having to ask. I also felt like I needed to explain that I’m not a bad mother and usually I do know where my children are. And plus…I had just finished reading The Shack, remember??? If you’ve read it, you know what I’m talking about! Those thoughts were running through my head as I searched and came up empty handed.

But as usual, Nina was sweet and gracious, and had many stories of her own to tell about loosing her child. I guess maybe it’s some sort of right of passage. And believe me, after that Friday, I’ve paid my dues.