This morning was our community-wide yard sale, from 8-11AM, and then at noon, Big Brothers/Big Sisters was sending a truck through the neighborhood to collect anything that didn't sell. I wasn't exactly highly motivated to do a lot as far as selling stuff goes, but there was stuff I wanted to get rid off.
I still didn't get up early, though.(hee)
I fed the kids breakfast and cleaned up, and finally around 9 got around to setting out the few things I wanted to get rid of: the old desk chair, the old stereo system with the big speakers, DH's old clothes, some clothes of DS2's, a huge bag of sippy cups -- so wonderful when you need them, but really a pain to keep clean -- a bunch of kid's videos that we have on DVD now, or that my kids never watched.
Sold the videos right off the bat. Sold DH's old jeans, and some shirts, too. Sold a few kids clothes things. Sold the stereo. Grand total: $45, for basically no work. Yes, I felt insane for selling a 5-component stereo system (Technics) with speakers for $20, but the thing is about 15 years old, and I'm not even sure if the tape deck works. Besides, they took it away! All of this stuff, we could've (and would've) donated it to charity and then taken a deduction on it, but the way that works, I'm not sure if we would've netted $45 less in taxes. All deductions do is reduce your taxable income, it's not like it would've been a credit. So I was actually pretty happy with the $45.
It was a beautiful morning and once I had everything set out, I brought out a blanket and put it in the driveway, and I sat there and read the paper. The kids were in and out. DD noticed the little girls across the street a few houses down were selling Hi-C, so I gave her the money and let her go get some. Then, of course, her brothers wanted some, too, so they came out, and I let them go, too. DD really is "little mom" to DS2, she helps him with his buttons and his sandals, and is so helpful and patient with him (when she's not screaming at him for being "a jerk"). Anyway, those two pretty much stuck together so that was OK.
No, my panic today was from DS1, who asked if he could take a walk around the cul-de-sac. I said, Sure. I saw him head in, I saw him come out, and then I realized he kept going down the street, and I had no idea where he went.
At this point I realize that I really did panic, because I wasn't thinking straight. DS1 doesn't walk all that fast, and if I had just sprinted to the corner at that moment, I could've caught him before he got out of sight. But I didn't think of that. DD and DS2 were out walking to the corner, too, and I was keeping an eye on them, as well. When I caught up to them, DS1 was nowhere in sight, and we called him and there was no answer.
So then I had to hustle those little legs back home and load them up in the car to drive around the neighborhood, all the while with rising panic in the back of my mind. I was trying so hard not to cry and freak out the little ones, but DS2 didn't want to get in the car and said, "I don't care about [DS1]," and I about lost it... I know it is only because he's 3 that he didn't really have a clue what was going on, but it still really hurt. DD was crying and very scared she would never see her brother again, and I kept telling her not to cry but to pray that DS1 would be safe and we would find him.
As we went around the neighborhood, of course many people were out and we asked them to keep an eye out for DS1. Our neighbors across the street sent their kids off in two different directions, and it was their boy who finally found him. We came upon them in the van only a few minutes later, even though it seemed like an eternity.
Poor DS1 burst into tears when he saw us. He wasn't lost or scared, he was just upset that he had scared me so. He told me, "I didn't think. I just wanted to go for a walk around the neighborhood." I didn't yell at him at all or punish him, there was no need -- he fully understood how serious what he did was. When we got home he ran right upstairs and into his room and hid in the closet, crying. I got him out of there and made him sit on my lap (even though he is almost too big for that) and I just held him so tight. "You can let go now, Mom," he told me, but I told him that I wasn't ready to, yet.
Eventually I did, and he asked if he could go downstairs and play and off he went.
We talked about it some more on the way home from Mass. I explained that we live in a good neighborhood -- we do, it's wonderful -- and that I didn't think any of our neighbors would do anything bad, but you can never know. But also, because today was the day of the community-wide yardsale, there were many strangers driving through, people we didn't know at all, and that was what made it so scary for me. DS1 assured me that he would never go in a stranger's house or car. It just occurred to me to tell him to be extra careful because sometimes people will say "Your mom told me to come pick you up," or some such, and little kids will often fall for that. I did tell him never to go with a grownup he doesn't know unless I tell him it's OK, but he might not get the difference between those two scenarios... a point to review, tomorrow.
So by the time we all settled down from that, it was time for lunch, and then it was time to pick DH up at the airport. That went very smoothly, no problems parking or connecting with DH or getting his luggage. Poor man is exhausted, though!
Got home, puttered around a bit, went out to confession (I always like to confess before a major medical procedure) and then to the supermarket, then went with DS1 to Mass. Came home, rested on the bed for a while watching the Red Sox get shellacked (ouch), then made dinner... watched some TV with DH while the kids played, jumping off the mini-trampoline into a pile of pillows, they had a blast and wore themselves out. Then tucked everyone into bed and came back down for my peace and quiet.
Under any circumstances, DS1 wandering off would be upsetting. Coming as it did after DH being away for a week, and with my surgery pending so soon, I'm amazed I didn't completely fall apart. I realize that my own level of stress prevented me from reacting quickly and effectively when I saw DS1 walking off, and that just contributed to my panic. The whole thing could've been avoided, but I was torn between DS1, DD and DS2 on their walk, the house all open and unlocked... In retrospect, I should've asked my neighbors to keep an eye on DD and DS2 while I ran quickly down the street. Nobody was going to touch the house, that was a non-issue... but I wasn't thinking clearly. I hate that.
I was so upset there was no way I could keep it from the kids. Of course they freaked out. I hate that, too. They did not need to go through all that... I didn't need to put us all through that. It was not inevitable. I just couldn't see a better way to handle things at the time.
I do believe DH came home just in time, a few more days like this and I would just be a puddle on the floor.
This is the second time in a week that I've let my own thoughtlessness put DS1 in peril. Earlier it was unthinkingly letting him eat the dessert pizza at Oregano's, which I didn't realize had macadamia nuts in it. He was OK, but I was unprepared to deal with the consequences if he was not: I only had one Claritin, and his Epi-Pen was at home. It could've been really, really bad. Just like today: it could've been really, really bad. Both incidents happened because I just didn't think, I didn't see the risk I was taking. Today, I saw DS1 walking away and didn't do anything about it. I don't know what I thought: He would go to the corner and come back? I don't know, but instead of calling out, "Hey, where are you going?" I did nothing. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Exactly as stupid as feeding my highly-allergic kid food that I have no idea of the ingredients, and for which there is a significant chance that there would be nuts in it. It didn't even occur to me to ask the waiter! Stupid, stupid, stupid.
This is a classic symptom of hypothyroidism: brain fog. I have numerous problems, but lack of clarity of thought is not one of them -- usually. Maybe it's not fair to blame the thyroid for my stupidity, but I can definitely blame it for my stress.
I hate being weak. I wanted to believe that I could handle DH being away for a week, the kids home full-time, with my surgery coming up right after, and the attendant fatigue because of the thyroid problem... I guess I did handle it, but it is only through the grace of God that my son is safe and home with us.
I'm grateful, but I'm also frustrated. I don't want to be this way. I fear this is the start of a long decline, and I don't know how long I'll be sliding until I reach the bottom, and I have no idea when I'll be able to start climbing back up.
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