27 October 2007

I'm gonna need valium and earplugs...

...to make it through the next few years. I was fool enough to allow Things 1 and 2 to host a Halloween party here last night. Upwards of twenty shrieking teenagers went stomping, running, screaming and spewing drama all over my house and yard. Oy. I think we can dump that one in with "what was I thinking" as well. We discovered that "Poltergeist" has held up well over the years as far as being scream-worthy. The kids were relatively well-behaved, with a couple notable exceptions, but they were loud and rowdy, and went through chips and cheap pizza like oxygen. The Things have done a fair to middlin' job of cleaning up after themselves, and were also quite good about tolerating younger brothers and sisters ( a couple friends had to bring theirs, and that forced the issue, I think). I still think I can justify a nap today, though.


Ever lose a kid in your own house? I just hate that feeling of panic. A couple times when Thing 1 was little I went flying through the house in a frantic frenzy (yay for alliteration!) only to finally find (can't stop!) her snuggled down between her mattress and the wall or otherwise safely cocooned somewhere. When we first moved to this house, I woke one morning and Thing 3, three years old at the time, was MIA. The doors were all secure, so I was a bit less panicky, but it was a new-to-us house with undiscovered nooks and crannies that I dreaded seeking out. I found her relatively quickly, snuggled into a box of blankets and towels that had yet to be unpacked. Yesterday, I had much the same experience with Thing 4. The doors were secure, but he was nowhere to be found. I was a bit flummoxed as I kept rechecking rooms because I could think of nowhere new to search. Thing 3 had a nicely folded, perfectly square blanket on the end of her bed (we won't mention the condition of the floor...) Thing 4 had snuggled himself perfectly under that blanket. Eventually he stretched and his little feet came poking out to give him away. I breathed a sigh of relief and went about my morning routine. I made some tea and checked my morning email, to read that a friend's grandson had been approached in town (pop. 5600, 2 hours from metro anywhere) by a man who tried to lure him into the car, and there were two other reports, including one in which the man actually walked up to a mother and attempted to wrestle her 1 year-old child from her arms. I'm really glad I read that AFTER I had my kid safely at the table with his breakfast.
With that happy news, I leave you all to your day, and I'm off to seek some fall sunshine, or nap.

1 comment:

Yellow said...

Oh, yes. I know that feeling of terror when you can't find your child. A couple of years ago, my daughter had "disappeared" and we went all over the house, the yard, down the street, yelling for her. No response. I ran upstairs again to look and found nothing. On my way down the stairs to call 911, my legs turned to jelly and everything began to fade away. Just as I contacted the 911 operator, my son found her fast asleep in a dark corner in the bathroom where we couldn't see her. That was the worst feeling ever.