NOT Mother of the Year!
Since Saturday evening, I have been really sick—-fever, congestion, sore throat, tired, just plain yuck! Sunday morning I decided I was too sick to attend church services. We decided it would be wisest for the baby to stay home with me, since my husband has to be on the stand at the front of the congregation (because he is currently serving as the Bishop of the ward) and that left the children on the bench by themselves.
The family had been gone about an hour. I had just finished reading Cocoa’s post about accepting the nomination as Young Mother of the Year in Nevada and some of the other great women who will be honored at the national convention. The baby had been watching Winnie the Pooh (TV and computer are in the same room). I decided I had enough energy to fold a load of laundry. The baby helped me get it out of the dryer. I sat down in the TV room and started folding. I noticed that the baby got quiet, but just figured he had found something interesting in one of the bedrooms.
When I was just about finished folding the laundry (10 minutes max), I thought, “I had really better find out what that baby is up to.” I went down the hallway to see if he was in the bedrooms or if, heaven forbid, someone had left one of the bathroom doors open and he was in the toilet. He wasn’t in the bedrooms, or the bathrooms. By this time I am calling his name and starting to stress a little. I noticed the front door wasn’t shut all the way and thought, “Oh no, I hope he didn’t go out the front door.” As I approached, I could see some strange man outside on the sidewalk holding my baby and a police officer.
I threw the door open and said, “Yes! That’s my baby!” The nice man brought the baby to me, as the officer was explaining that the baby was just about to cross the street. I said to the baby, “Where have you been?” relief in my voice. The man repeated my words and then said this to me, “I wouldn’t let my little dogs get out in a situation like that lady!” giving me a stern look over the top of his sunglasses. He thanked the officer and then got into his truck and drove away.
The officer, of course, wanted to know my last name, then my first name, then to tell me how much peril the baby had been in and that I may want to consider changing the door knobs on my front door so the baby can’t do that again. I brought the baby in the house, chained the front door, sat down and cried for about 1/2 an hour. It was only then that I thought, “Gee, it’s a really good thing your dogs can’t open the front door!”
Anyway, I do not think I will be winning any awards for motherhood any time soon. Plus, since I am still feeling nasty, I think I’ll get myself to the doctor today. Thanks for listening.