Tuesday, October 30, 2012

that kind of mother (Part 2).

I had every right to fear that skating party.  At 5:15, 15 minutes before I was to pick Millie up, I got a phone call.

Millie?  Is that you?
Mom...  i don't know where (deep breathing)....I can't (swallowing tears)... I don't know where anyone is?

And with that it was established that Millie was still at Classic Skate.  What?

Stay there.  Stay by a worker.  Don't move.  I'm coming now.

I threw everyone in the car, Ellis and cousin Ella, while phoning birthday mom.

Me: Where are you?
B-Mom: Just pulling into the driveway.
Me: Millie just called.  She is still at Classic Skate.
B-Mom: Millie is is still at Classic Skate?????
Me.  Millie is still at Classic Skate.
B-Mom: I'm turning around.  I'll go get her.
Me: No.  I will go get her.  Take care of your birthday kids.

And with that we were off.  I sped, and I prayed, and I had Ellis pray.  Don't move Millie.  Don't go into the parking lot.  Don't talk to strangers.  Don't go to the bathroom.  Don't take candy...... And it went on and on as I thought of all scenarios.

Every what if.

And there was traffic.  Lots of traffic.

By the time we pulled up, it had been 45 minutes that my 7 year old had been alone.

We ran in and there she was.  Sitting on the floor.  In front of the ticket window.  Jaw down to her chin.  Eyes a bit swollen.  Not looking up, slow to move.

And we went through everything.  What happened?  What have you been doing?  Who did you talk to?  Are you okay?  Are you okay?  Are you okay?

She was okay, and during the 30 minute return trip, she talked about how much fun she had before the leaving.

I returned her to the party.  It was over. Not officially.  But over in terms of the invitation time.  And  I took her back.  Because she deserved cake.  And ice cream.  And a party bag.  And love.  And recognition. 

The mom was mortified.  But not enough.  Because other than a hug, she spent the rest of the time on the phone, telling other people what happened, instead of talking to me.  Talking to my daughter.  Getting through this.  And I had spent an entire afternoon bursting into tears.

They had miscounted.  1 girl was dropped off by her mother, and took Millie's place in the car count.

So yes. I am that kind of mother.  A mother with 11 years experience chaperoning high schoolers.  Taking other people's children to far fetched places and I would have double checked.  And had I left a child I would have looked them in the eye.  Given love, and attention, and made that child feel good.  Really good.

Any correlation with sequins?  I'm finding myself hypothesizing.  I don't want to make a judgement based on looks...

but perhaps I should.


Mary said...

You should.

My goodness I got tears in my eyes, thinking of your first baby left all alone. I'm so glad she was safe. What would I do? What would I SAY?

sherry carpet said...

i have a whole rolodex of prejudices i'm spinning through right now...i'll find some extra for you. sequins, check. ten years younger than us, by any chance? i won't go into hair color (or fake hair color), but i am feeling just mean enough and mad enough to do that too.

so glad you were on the scene, my friend. and that millie kept her head. she's all right.

sherry carpet said...

i also have to "just say" that i am always just one lucky break away from leaving the kid at the skating rink. them's just the lame facts. but i like to think i'd have the grace to attend to the people i wronged. so annoyed at sequin girl.

Anna said...

You write so well I felt like I was living the experience. It was painful. I hope you and Millie recover fast. And I want you to know that I would rather hang out with you any day than Ms. Sequins. Even if she has a nicer car and still-zippy corduroys.

Lola said...

So glad she knew your phone number! Two different moms have left PJ at school when he was supposed to go home with them. Luckily, he was safe at school, but still.

The worst part is consoling THEM. They apologize profusely and you have to tell them it's ok, it worked out. But it's NOT ok and what you really want to say is "yeah, you really blew it and p.s., you're the worst."