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| "Sorry, Barb. Only moms who don't lose their kids get to hang out at the light house. Now, beat it." |
It's Friday, do you know where your kids are? Me either. Oh, wait, no, there's smoke coming from the bathroom and I hear some sort of intense debate going on in broken English, so we're good. I don't always lose my kids, but when I do, it's usually because I'm drinking a Dos Equis or we've stumbled into a world of limited sight and too much sound. A dimension where most of the climate is made up of urine and tears. The laminated sign up ahead?
You're now waddling into...
Letters From the Shallow End of the Baby Pool
Part III: And They Called Her "Outcast"
June 22nd, 2012
It was a sad day, wasn't it? It's always a sad day when you have to band together and watch a stranger's child, while she goes and looks for the one she misplaced. We laughed at her until I realized that the person who lost her child was me, and then I was all like, "Crap, I gotta go."
To the the two skinny blonds who watched Sundance while I ran around like chicken with its head cut off, looking for Butch, thank you. Even though you said you didn't mind, neither of you looked like you were in the market for a new child, so your lies were much appreciated. I wish your unblemished abs and neatly-maintained highlights all the best. I mean that from the bottom of my darkest stretch mark.
To whoever brought my stomach back after it fell out of my butt from fear. Thank you. Although I found Butch talking to another child about whether he should throw his flip flop in the pool or not, I have to thank the invisible individual who tapped me on the shoulder and said, "I believe this fell out of your butt."
"Why, thank you Mr. Guilt. That did just fall out of my butt. It's not every day I lose one of my children and question my very existence and ability to rear offspring to adulthood."
He laughed. "No worries, Mrs. Kellerman. Everyone doesn't pay attention and completely disregards their child walking off into imminent danger, at some point in their lives. I can't think of anyone off the cuff right now, but I know there's someone. I think I may have heard of a blind woman who had twenty children, but the story isn't fresh in my mind or may have never happened."
And so, I gathered Butch away from the big pool and guided him back to the baby pool, where I trembled for a while, packed our things, and took a couple day's hiatus from the concrete basin of shame. Thank you again, Mothering Collective, for not judging me...because you were raising your eyebrows just to tan the bags under your eyes, correct?
Sincerely,
Paige
Until Next Time, Readers!
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| "Stay negligent, my friends." |
Posts
If we don't judge you for misplacing a child, you won't judge us for tanning the bags under our eyes, right?
ReplyDeleteI think my calmness in these situations produces an air of "I don't really mind if I have one less child to care for" and unnevers everyone around me. Rest assured that in your panic you showed the collective you actually care and know that you lowered your life expectancy by at least one year.
I feel like that freak out may have lowered my life expectancy by five years. I must learn your calm ways so I don't grey by the time I'm twenty nine.
DeleteYour tales would encourage me to hide out in a plastic kiddie pool for the rest of my days...and I have no kids!
ReplyDeleteTrust me, Maggie, that's exactly where I wanted to hide for the rest of the day.
DeleteMr Guilt now remembers the other woman, "oh yes, it's Mrs Black, 4 kids, Small Town, Texas. I don't know how I couldn't remember, I visit her daily. So don't worry Mrs Kellerman, You are not alone!"
ReplyDeleteAlso, you may have lost a child briefly, seemingly hours, but you also found the child. And for this you are rewarded, "Best Mom" So come back to the pool with pride! You love your child so much you'll look like a crazy person just to find them and keep them safe! Kids don't even realize what we do for them! I mean seriously, who loses their stomach through their backside for another... only a mother!
Love the post, as usual! Thanks!
Thanks, Christie! Now that my stomach's been recovered I think I can go on, but that may very well be the worst feeling in the entire wold. You do an awesome job btw...:)
DeleteWait a minute, I'm confused. You mean you're supposed to look for them when they wander off? Next thing you'll be telling me is that you're also supposed to try & find them when you're playing "Hide & Seek"!!
ReplyDeleteWhoa Whoa Whoa...who said anything about having to find them when you're playing Hide and Seek? That's just crazy talk.
DeleteI lost Bonus Brother in Disney World when he was 12. Frickin' Disney!
ReplyDeleteI about lost my insides.
He didn't even know he was lost.
They never know they're lost. you just know you're having a massive heart attack.
DeleteYou took child neglect, made it hilarious, and wrapped it in a Dos Equis sandwich. Which is one of the many reasons I love you. I've lost my kids numerous times, but I do SO hate it when I have judgy eye-baggy witnesses. :) I'll remember your tale of warning later today, as my children are pulled out to the middle of the lake on a riptide, bobbing on the surface of the water in their festively-colored puffy arm floaties.
ReplyDeleteWait, child neglect isn't funny?...I guess not. Although, anything wrapped in Dos Equis has improved ten-fold. We both know this is true.
DeleteI think everybody loses their kids sometimes. They're very small, wiggly, and prone to disappearing at the worst possible moment. Also, I am pretty sure that they are programmed from birth to do everything they possibly can to make you look like a horrible mother in public. That's like, the Prime Directive of childhood.
ReplyDeleteAll of that is entirely true. I keep winning special "Worst Mother of the Year" awards, every time we leave the house...:(
DeleteI once found my 10 month old in the yard with no clue how she managed the deck stairs. I have run around a Carter's outlet...pregnant...holding a two year old...looking for the 4 year old who was pressed so far up against a wall behind the coats that I could not even see her little shoes sticking out. I have jumped in and then fallen in a kiddie pool (also pregnant) after the toddler jumped in what I thought was a deep end of a toddler pool and it was only knee deep. My motto? If you can't make these stories funny, you're not trying hard enough. I just ate this up with a spoon that was previously lost under my couch. Another brilliant post. Thanks for being so honest.
ReplyDeleteGotta love the perfectly maintained highlights crew--gag! Aren't they just such a fun bunch? ;)
ReplyDeleteDon't worry, the pool is full of people that either misplace or don't watch their children. I spent 10 minutes searching for the parent of a crying child in our pool He was about 4 and thankfully wearing a life jacket. I was beginning to think his Mom needed a sound thrashing only to find out it was his Dad that was on duty. He told the kid to sit down and stop his belly aching. Great Dad! At least you cared enough to be worried and went looking for yours. You definitely don't win the worst parent ever award!
ReplyDeleteWe went swimming yesterday and I've decided the kids aren't old enough and I'm not young enough. Maybe they can take themselves to the pool after they learn how to drive.
ReplyDeleteLOL. First off, Paige, just remember this. If your kids can afford their own therapists when they are grown, you haven't done everything wrong.
ReplyDeleteAt least you have a crowded pool as an excuse. I was once in a park with my two (3 & 5), one friend, and her daughter. There was one other mother there with one little girl and an infant in a carrier. I had thoroughly lectured my kids repeatedly about all of the strangers who want to steal them away from me on the theory that a terrified child is better than a dead one. So you would have thought....
That's what I thought, too. I was so complacent, thinking there were no immediate threats, that I chatted with my friend and didn't notice my son leaving the park with the lady, her daughter, and the infant. He followed them home when she went to change her baby's diaper.
I looked up and panicked my son nowhere in sight. My friend and I grabbed the other two kids and checked the closest streets to no avail. I was running back to my car to call the police when my son wandered into the park. To this day, I break out in a cold sweat just to think about that worst five minutes of my life. I think it was a week before I could breathe again, and I had exactly no excuse.
I used to feel guilty, but over time when I didn't let them more than an arm's reach away and they still managed to get stuck under piano pedals, smash out teeth, and break toes, I let it go. It's looking like they will be able to afford their own therapists some day.
You honestly sound like an awesome mom. I would let you take my kids to the pool any time. Will tomorrow work for you?