The Mother in me...

Chloe and Matthew excitedly played with weebles and trains today while I fumbled with Chloe's birthday invitations, address books and looking for stamps. I was also on a conference call at the time and gave Chloe a loud, impatient, "No" when she asked if she could hand deliver the invitations to the neighbors. I had fifteen minutes to get the kids off to daycare before my next call and I continued to scramble for bits.

I heard the dog bark and ran downstairs to see what the commotion was all about. Mid-decent from the stairs, I realized that the front door was wide open and Matthew anxiously asked me where Chloe went. In that instant, my heart froze, I began to feel panic throughout my body and time started moving in slow motion. Never a good sign.

I threw all of my papers and notes onto the floor as I ran out the front door. I began to look around the block and scream her name. I could hear it in my head, the pitch of desperation in my voice that every parent dreads. My kid was missing. My heart was already beating uncontrollably, my brain knew I was becoming hysterical. Finally, I spotted her at the neighbor's house, unharmed and asking her little friend for a play date.

I was relieved. And angry! We walked home and I spanked her at once. I told her how afraid I was and how someone could have taken her. My heart aches with sadness in my chest to even write such things.

It was worse than her losing my precious diamond earrings yesterday which made me cry. The ones that I had loaned her and she promised-promised-promised not to lose. I can't ever replace them and I still can't quite comprehend why I decided to put them in the care of a four year old.

In retrospect, none of this even matters. Chloe is okay and those diamond earrings are material bullshit. My Chloe is learning the things she can and can't do. I'm learning that the worried feeling in your gut never goes away once you become a parent.