There are those moments when, as a parent, you realize you have fallen incredibly short. Sometimes it is all your fault and you deserve what you get. Other times it is kind of an accident.
That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
It was Sunday night and all was well. Since Wes was supposed to be home on Monday, in my mind, the long dreadful weekend was nearing a close. I was at the dining room table, busy working at my computer, trying to catch up after the taxing weekend. Admittedly, I was completely absorbed in what I was doing, but all of the kids were perfectly happy, playing in various places. Tyler had a friend over for a sleepover, and they were in the living room with the TV turned up full-volume, giving the PS3 a complete workout. The older girls were upstairs on their computers. Hannah had been in various places throughout the night…in my room watching TV, in Tyler’s room playing with toys, and upstairs with the girls. Penny was in an out of the back door (which had been left open most of the day because of the nice weather until I had closed it earlier in the evening on account of the fly swarming around my face interrupting my work) but had been asleep at my feet for quite a while.
It occurred to me, for no particular reason, to go and account for everybody. It felt a little silly since I pretty much knew where everyone was, but still, nobody had bothered me for anything in a couple of hours, and that oddity, combined with my need to stretch anyway, led me to get up. Penny at my feet…check. Boys still at the TV…check. Girls upstairs on the computer…check. Hannah…um…Hannah…not in any of those places…and not anywhere else either. Figuring she must be passed out asleep somewhere strange, I started over, room to room. No Hannah.
The dread started to prickle.
I asked the girls, who hadn’t seen her. I asked the boys, with the same response. So I asked the boys to please pause and help me look for her because I couldn’t find her. So they did. And being typical boys, they went straight for the back door. I almost used my all-too-common you-are-so-stupid tone of voice to tell them there was no WAY she was out there in the dark by herself, when I heard from the friend “Um, Mrs. Tollett? We found her…she was outside!”
Excuse me?
So I ran to the back door to be greeted with an even greater shock. There was my neighbor from behind us, whom I don’t know other than waving and saying hi once, holding Hannah in my wooden fenced- and gated-in backyard. Hannah had been crying and was soaked clean through. (So was my neighbor from holding her). The neighbor told me that her neighbor had heard Hannah crying in the backyard and called to see if it was her child. It wasn’t, but she and her husband went outside to investigate, and they heard my child. They peered over the fence to see her laying in the middle of the trampoline, sobbing in the dark back yard. They tried to talk her into getting down, but she wouldn’t. They didn’t know if she was hurt, abandoned or just scared. So in desperation, they vaulted over my back fence to rescue her. They tried knocking repeatedly on my back door, but nobody answered. They were fixing to try to find a way out of my backyard when the boys came out looking for Hannah.
I was mortified. I had visions of police swat teams and DHS officials. I tried to explain, but I didn’t really know how it had happened. I apologized a lot. And of course I took Hannah in my own arms, and tried not to grimace at the feel of her cold, pee-soaked clothes touching mine, especially when my neighbor had taken the brunt of it. (Yeah, it’s official, I’m a bad mom). The neighbors looked me over and said goodnight. I retreated back into my house.
Over a warm bath, I pieced together the story from a completely happy Hannah, all things now forgiven and almost forgotten. She had been playing inside the house, and apparently followed Penny outside at one point and decided to play on the trampoline. In the dark. She told me she was having fun, but then indignantly informed me that Penny left her outside by herself. The nerve of that dog, right? At this point it gets sketchy. Did she call for me? Did she try to get down? Did she fall asleep? How long was she out there? I’m not sure, but Penny had been inside at my feet for awhile before I got tired of that blasted fly and decided to go shut the back door and turn off the light, and I think that is when Hannah panicked. Or maybe she was asleep, and only panicked when she woke up. Or maybe she really needed to go potty and started to cry when she couldn’t hold it anymore and wet herself.
I didn’t push her for these details, because it really didn’t matter anyway. All I know is I lost my child for probably over an hour in my own backyard and didn’t even know it. I have learned some things from this experience.
- Always make sure your children aren’t still outside before shutting the door at night.
- Perhaps bedtimes should be considered, even in the summer.
- Neighbors who hold your pee-soaked child are probably worth getting to know.
- And don’t walk around the house naked, because you never know who might be standing in your backyard trying to get in for your greater good.
That is all.
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