No matter how I awesome I think I am. . .

Here I am looking all sassy; it's 1:30 and I'm out of my workout clothes. I stay in them until I get my workout in; which most days mean I stay in them all day. . . you do the math. But today!, today I got's my stuff together. Lily and I did yoga on the patio, Jack looked on and gave encouraging grunts. Which he had totally better, because he's the reason I'm so fat after all. I didn't want to eat my way to a sixty pound weight gain, it was all a tremendous sacrifice.






















There is a little problem though; I cannot fool everybody, there will always be Jenny who knows the score. And everybody I tell because the story is just too good not to share. Consider it my contribution to you feeling better about yourself today. Sit back and enjoy my personal humiliation.

As I have expounded upon at length, we live on a mountain. Daily I kick all the children out into the desert to go and play. There is nothing I despise more than TV/video game coma children. So, a few weeks ago the children were frolicking outside as they do. Luke was at a friends house and Owen had a friend over. Lily was tagging along with Owen, until, she wasn't. . .

Owen and Jake decided that they were sick of her and told her to go home. Tiny problem was they were halfway up the mountain and she didn't know what way was home. Now there are about eight house in the area where we live; which would probably include, I don't know, around a hundred acres (I'm not a great estimator).

So, there is Lily, our perfectly darling baby girl, lost. Alone, wandering around, not seeing "mommy's house."

About an hour has past at this point and I still think they are all together; having yet another delightful childhood day. It's 5:45 and it's nearing the time that we need to be leaving for a scout activity. I go out and yell to round the children up. My voice booms across the landscape and draws no reaction.

Strange.

I shout again, and nothing.

All of a sudden I feel panic; where are they, I wonder.

With great relief I hear Owen say, "coming." Satisfied I go inside to get last minute things complete before we all load up. Ten more minutes go by. I'm annoyed.

"OWEN!!!!!!!," I yell.

"yeah" he replies (like our previous conversation hadn't happened)

. . ."get over here, NOW!!" I say in an I'm not effing around tone.

A begrudging, "I'm coming," reply comes from the distance. But, the tone ignites terror within me. I know my boy and I know something is not right. With Jack in my arms I race out to the desert to find him. I come upon Owen and Jake looking at the ground. I have a moment of frantic realization. Lily is not with them. They were stalling, trying to find her themselves.

"WHERE IS YOUR SISTER!!!!"

"Um, I don't know, I mean, she wasn't with us, remember?" Owen offers.

Thoroughly terrified; my voice cracks as adrenaline surges through me. "Tell me the truth, and tell it quick."

. . ."well, she was following us and she couldn't hike with us cause she had those ballet slippers on. . ."

I cut them off and scream out, "she's just a baby! She can't be on the mountain by herself. Owen, how could you! GO, GO both of you race to where you saw her last, shout, scream, we have to find her. It will be dark in thirty minutes."

They tear off back up the trail and I race back home, hoping and praying that she is playing sweetly in the toy room. I race through the entire house in four minutes flat. I am panicked. I quickly call our neighbors the LeSueur's to enlist them in the search. He answers on the second ring and four of them race out to help.

Screaming rings throughout the fading light. Jack cries out in fear with each intense shout I make. I hear distant voices of the others; LILY echos. Twenty more minutes pass, shouts ahead communicating something different. I can't understand though. Communication back and forth, but I still haven't heard definitively.

Hope. It's maybe fifteen more minutes till dark.

I shout forward, "do you have her?"

Mumbles return; they are too far, out of ear shot. I'm racing forward with Jack in my arms (this sounds really dramatic, but IT WAS).

"What? Scream yes if you've found her."

"YES"

Hundred of different horrible scenarios flood out of me. She is okay, we know where she is.

I finally reach her. She had wandered onto someone's property and their dog's barking had alerted them to her presence. They brought her inside and tried to coax her name out. She refused because, "mama sayws not talk swangers." She then proceeded to jabber their ears off for an hour and half; everything except her name, because "dem de rweulls."

We chat for a few minutes and they offer to drive us home, (we're quite a ways away). I cancel our plans for the evening. I feel like I've aged seven months, Chad pulls in the driveway a few moments later and I sob to him.

Daily life continues as it always does. Days pass, probably at a much slower pace for a certain person (he was a wee desperate for human contact (two weeks to be exact)). A week passes and I notice a red bump growing at the base of Jack's incision. Great. A call to the surgeon and an appointment was made. I took Lily with me and left the boys home. I anticipated being gone for maybe an hour, tops.

Upon arrival at the office they immediately direct us the the ER. Staph infection, not good. We went over, my general laid back approach provided me much comfort. Things are under control, some medicine, we'll be home soon. They ran a blood tests, and made plans to drain the now marble sized puss ball. I called home to check in on the boys, things were fine. Another hour passes, I call the LeSueurs again to see if the boys could come over for dinner.

Sure! Send em over. . .

I call back and give them the news, they're very excited! So excited that they. . .go to the wrong house. Fancy a guess which house the ended up at? Yeah, that's the house. I get a call at the ER but it's right at the moment that they are trying to start Jack's IV. A voice mail message alert goes off. A few minutes later once Jack is settled I listen.

. . ."His Jamie, this is Jenny Newenguard, we met briefly last week when we found Lily, um, your boys just showed up here and said that they were here for dinner. Um, can you give me a call and let me know what's going on? Yeah, they said that they haven't eaten, um, just give me a call."

Just shoot me, in the face, please.