Encore!

Last night I did no less than 10 curtain calls for my kids at bedtime. The more practical parent in me tells me this was excessive and I should do more ignoring and less responding. But, something about "I just sneezed and have snot running all over my face," pulls at my heartstrings every time.

How Phobias are Born

It should have been a regular visit to the grocery store.

In fact, it was. Until we took the elevator to the parking garage. The kids were happily batting their balloons around each other and I was lazily thinking about the night's dinner menu. The elevator settled in the basement and I followed Goosie off. Little E, who usually sticks pretty close to me was distracted by his balloon.

He didn't get off in time.

I turned to see the doors closing, a frightened little face behind them, and as I lunged for the elevator button, I heard his blood-curdling scream rise to the floor above me.

Perhaps more unsettled than her ascending 3 year old brother, Goose danced about my legs oozing anxiety. Adopting the "hug-a-tree" strategy, I frantically pushed the call button; I was fairly certain Little E would be too stunned to leave the "safety" of the elevator car and would return shortly. But, of course, the other elevator came first.

Goose and I hopped on car #2 and went up. The doors opened and standing around the elevator were several onlooking adults who, without any verbal cues from us, indicated Little E had just gone back down, this time accompanied by an adult. Of Course.

We got down just as Little E and his helper were about to go back up (how long could we have played that game??). According to his rescuer, Little E had pushed enough of the buttons to get the fire department on the phone. Little E popped his thumb in his mouth and recovered fairly quickly. Goose, on the other hand, won't go near an elevator now without ensuring that all parties are physically attached to a trusted adult.

It's been almost half of a year since it happened. I'm not sure how much he remembers...every now and then he mentions it. But, just in case, I'm going start saving for future therapy bills.

Whew!

I thought I was being super efficient today. I got the kids dressed and chores done in record time. By 9:30 I got grocery shopping for the week done, the dishes done, laundry humming, the next month of preschool planned.....and then the phone rang.

It was some random lady with a bit of an accent calling me by name. "I think you left your wallet in a cart in the Target parking lot." ACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "Could you take it to customer service? I'll be right there."

Our Target is super ghetto. I see empty boxes and open on the shelves all the time where people have simple stolen the product. In fact, once I accidentally BOUGHT an empty box. The likelihood that an honest person found my wallet, would take the time to look up my phone number, call me, and then secure the wallet at customer service is quite slim. But that's what she did. She even called me back a half hour later to make sure I had recovered it.

Blessings upon your head Good Woman!

Perhaps even better than getting my wallet back it provided a great teaching moment for my children who were very interested in the fact that someone had the opportunity to take something that wasn't theirs, but chose to do the right thing.

I'll definitely be remembering this act of service as our family celebrates Thanksgiving this year.

My Afternoon

tree

alight with sun-drenched fire

wild symphony of branches

assaults and soothes

with violent beauty