Lost

I lost Jack (temporarily) today at a book festival in downtown Decatur. He was in the stroller while I was buying a book, and then he was NOT in the stroller. I won't even go into detail about how I felt, as anyone with children can surely imagine it all to0 clearly themselves, and there's no truly accurate way to describe complete, hysterical terror anyway.

So, I noted the absence of Jack, and I immediately began running up and down the aisles of books screaming "LOST BABY! GREEN SHORTS, TAN SHIRT WITH A TURTLE ON IT! BROWN CURLY HAIR! LOST BABY! LOST BABY!"

People were scampering about helping me look for him, and kind souls (likely fellow parents) were even taking up my cause, shouting out his description to others. Which was helpful because I was hyperventilating.

Turns out, Jack (I am making a valiant effort here to control my urge to call him multiple dirty names) had climbed OUT of the straps in the stroller (which I had loosened, like a moron, to make him more comfortable), and he was crouched behind the book shelf near the back of the kids' section. He had to poop, and nowadays he must hide when that particular urge strikes to avoid being harassed about the glories of using the potty. So he picked a convenient thirty seconds when I was otherwise engaged in paying for my purchase, and he left to take care of some urgent business.

I had stopped being practical and capable of rational thought just a few seconds after I noticed Jack wasn't where he should have been, and I had gotten to the point where I was in a complete swivet, flapping my arms and leaping around like an enraged harpy, screaming his name over and over, when he finally peeked around the shelf (to see why I was losing my shit, apparently). I spotted him, swooped down upon him (once again with the harpy thing) and thanked all my helpers for their assistance and genuine concern.

While at the time it seemed like hours, the entire ordeal lasted maybe 45 seconds to one minute. He is fine, I am fine. Now. I calmly (as every nerve in my body jangled) expressed to him how very scared it made mommy when she couldn't find Jack, and I stressed the importance of always staying inside the stroller like a good little boy. And I even managed to resist the urge to shake him until his teeth clacked together. Then I strapped his behind in that stroller so tight Houdini would have failed to extract him.

And what have we learned today? We have learned not to assume that because you have strapped your boy into the stroller he will stay there. And we have been reminded just how quickly a day can change from lovely to nightmarish. So, you know, pay attention. That's all I'm saying.

Shame, shame...

So embarrassed. So very, very embarrassed.

Yes, it's been a while. Longer than a while. A whiiiiile, if you will.

So what's new with us? Well, Sailor attended her first day of fourth grade yesterday. Getting information from her is often like pulling teeth, but she did offer us these golden nuggets:

1. Her teacher is nice. Not like the mean teacher on the playground who yelled at her students in front of everyone. This bothered Sailor.

2. She may very well be popular this year, as she made friends with some popular kids. I'm not sure who these kids are, but I have been assured they are the "sweet" popular kids, rather than the "mean" popular kids. Because Lord knows we want to steer clear of the latter.

3. She did not realize her lunchbox has a cooler compartment on the bottom. This is where I packed her milk and cheese. Therefore, she had to beg a milk off the lunch lady, who snarled at her and spit in the milk. I'm kidding. She didn't spit in the milk. But it was still a good visual, you have to admit.

We are not sure at this point if any actual learning occurred yesterday.

Jack has missed Sailor, but he is very excited about the opportunity to walk up the road with me to pick her up from the bus stop in the afternoons. Oh, the bus! It is absolutely glorious with its yellow paint and ear-splitting brake squeals! I mean, really.

Cousin Jason e-mailed some photos of our trip to the lake with Watson's family this weekend. I took one look, spotted myself in a couple here and there (in my bathing suit) and promptly stuffed my feet in my running shoes, strapped Jack in the jogging stroller and took off on a jaunt around the neighborhood. The first fifteen minutes or so were lovely. The air was cool (Jack was in long sleeved pj's), the roads were empty and the birds were singing (and staying respectively in their trees so as not to cause me any panic episodes on the road). I was just asking myself why I didn't do this every day, this pleasant, calming, rejuvenating exercise, when we arrived at the Big Hill.

"Please God, help me," I panted as I leaned into the incline, pushing Jack (who suddenly seemed ridiculously overweight) and the stroller (which suddenly seemed ridiculously oversized) up the mountain. Er, hill.

But I made it! And even though my legs are having a little trouble supporting me when I stand up and try to, you know, walk, I plan to do it again. Let's just hope I do a better job being a regular exerciser than I'm doing with my blogging. Fingers crossed.