On Sunday morning, I dressed both girls, did they hair, and finally Jory had finished putting on his clothes. I was ready to hit the roof. Then in the car, he continually complained that he was cold and asked if the windows could be rolled up. If I roll down the windows, then it's not just a little warm, it's a lot warm because I'm always cold. I had Vandy toss him the jackets I brought in case we stayed late after church.
As we were all getting out the minivan I noticed Jory was missing his vest. Are you serious?!?! If you're cold, you layer yourself. You don't start taking off clothes when you cold. I demanded he find his vest and not get out of the car until he did. After waiting for a few minutes making us even later for church, I had had enough. I reiterated he couldn't get out the car until he found the vest (because honestly we have a minivan not a motor home), then I went to settle Vandy and the twins into church.
I went back to the minivan and he was still searching. I left the car door open for him and went back to my seat.
A few minutes later, Vandy asked if he could go check on Jory. He left and came back to say, "I can't find Jory. He's not in the car."
"What do you mean, you can't find him?"
"He's not in the car."
I got up and left the girls in his care while I walked as quickly as my slightly too big high heels would carry me. Jory was not in the van. I even opened the car door and called his name in case he had shrunk and was hiding underneath the car seats or in the trunk with the stroller.
As I walked back towards the church, I thought we are not going to be an episode of 48 Hour Mystery. This day was not going to end with my son being taken from the church parking lot. I told myself I was being crazy. Jory had not been kidnapped. Then I heard a voice say, the parents whose kids had been kidnapped had probably started their day as a normal day. I quickly thought about Heather and the other teens sitting at the table next to us. They could help me sweep the area for Jory. Though I thought I would have seen him, if he had passed the table and benches. Someone would have heard him if he had screamed and as the door was shut to get him out of the car.
Nope, I wasn't going to think that way. Though I did wonder when I should alert the church. Walking up the curb towards the church, a fellow church member pointed inside and said Jory was in there. I walked in and sure enough there he was standing between Aunt Dee Dee's legs. His vest was lying on the chair in front of them. I walked over to them and picked him and his vest up. My slowly increasing anxiety level lessened. Here was my boy.
"Mommy, I didn't see you so I went and sat with Auntie Dee Dee and Uncle Stan."
"I saw that. Good job, baby." I realized we had never talked before about what to do if we were ever separated. "Jory, you did the right thing by going into church and finding Auntie Dee Dee. If we are ever separated or you don't see me, then you go find the nearest adult you know. And if you don't know anyone, then go to an adult and tell them you've been separated from me, tell them my name, and give them my cell phone number. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Mommy is so proud of you."
I was irritated that he was being slow and what did that and my fit of anger get me, some moments panic that my baby, the love of my life, was gone - - had been taken from me. This parenting thing is not for the faint of heart.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
You know what I love big sisters with the cooking gene because you know, like with Slayers, in every generation in our family a cook is born. Mona is the cook in ours. I'm praying one of mine is the one for their generation.
So when you feel adventurous at Costco and buy pork tenderloin, you can make a simple call and say, "How do I cook this?"
"For how long?"
"At what temperature?"
And she answers all your questions without batting an eye.
No comments:
Post a Comment