This is the worst thing that has happened to me, ever. And I'm not talking about the pinched nerve that has me completely sidelined today.
Wallie and I lay down for a snuggle this afternoon. I had her all to myself since J. was off coaching Bunny's soccer game. I treasure these afternoons when I have her one-on-one.
I could tell Wallie was tired, but she was restless. That kind of restlessness that kids get right before they fall asleep. I felt her get down from the bed, but I am in such an Advil-induced haze that it didn't really register.
About 15 minutes later, I snap to attention (ow) and call out to Wallie.
And hear nothing.
I call again.
I dash down to her bedroom. Maybe she's asleep there?
I go back to the bedroom and check the closet. Then the playroom closet. Then the bathrooms.
My heart in my throat I check the front door to see if she has escaped. It's locked. There's no sign of anyone outside. Mentally, I'm calling 9-1-1 and trying to remember where I left my phone. What do I tell the dispatcher? That I lost my child in my own house?
I race back into the living room one more time. No one there. "WHERE IS SHE?"
I realized that she was in the living room, hidden amidst the throw pillows. If you look really closely in the above photos, you'll spy her. I should have walked further into the living room the first time, but I just didn't expect her to be there.
I cannot believe that she didn't hear my panicky, sob-filled screams. I'm ready for today to be done.