911, Brain Surgery, and a Smashed Toe!

Again, I've procrastinated so instead of a bunch of excuses I'll just dive in.

On Thursday, we are loading up to make a trip to the store. Everything is going as usual when I realize that my two year old is nowhere to be found. I think they must be in the backyard still so I head out there and call for them. Nothing. Okay, so they must be upstairs in the bathroom being really quiet so they don't get in trouble for breaking the rules about playing in the bathroom. Negative. How about the bedrooms, they like to play in the closets sometimes. Empty (well of any children, plenty of junk). I'm trying not to panic at this time because for sure they are already out in the car I just didn't notice them slip out with everyone else. I holler at my hubby outside to see if the child is already outside. No, he doesn't see them.

Okay, I'm starting to panic. My hubby comes in from outside to see what is taking me so long. I tell him I can't find our child and he asks me if I've checked all the places that I already checked. We look again together. And again. We blow an air horn in the house thinking they must have fallen asleep somewhere trying to scare them awake. No cries. We check our front yard, garage, neighbor's yard. No Stuart child with wild hair. It's been 10 minutes since we noticed their disappearance. It's been about 30 minutes since we last seen our child. I call 911 while my hubby goes to search the neighborhood more thoroughly.

The police arrive and they ask me all the usual questions. We all look again and again and again. They finally ask if I have a recent picture. (Things aren't looking well from my perspective by this time.) I print off a picture and try not to think of all the terrible things that are creeping into my mind. Another officer shows up and is also searching the house with flashlights and all. Still nothing. My hubby returns from his jaunt and asks if we have found them. No.

By this time it's probably been about an hour since anyone has seen our two year old. I start crying but try to stay composed for my other children. My hubby goes downstairs to look again. I hear him tearing things apart and then he announces the most beautiful words, "I found them!!" I rush downstairs to see where and he's pulling the child out from their "napping" spot. I run upstairs to let the officers know we have found our child. I run back downstairs and grab my baby out of my hubby's arms (I don't think anyone would be brave enough to try and keep them from me right now).

Our child had fallen asleep on top of some plastic totes that I have stored under a little toy table in their play area. Everyone had looked under there several times (even the police with their flashlights) but had failed to see them because of the way the child was laying and their legs were completely hidden by a stool they had between their legs. My hubby barely sees them because they move when he is moving things around. They are not happy to be awakened from their peaceful slumber. (It takes awhile for me to recover but I finally am able to breathe again even though I feel like 10 years of my life are gone!)

I sure learned a lesson of appreciation for my children from this experience and it's a good thing too! The very next day this same child is helping unload the dishwasher when they take a sharp steak knife out of the silverware holder. Before I can do anything they turn around and start hitting another child in the head over and over again with the blade. (I think they are a little young to be performing brain surgery.) Horrified, I wrestle the blade away and come to my other child's aid hoping that they haven't lost an eye or anything. Luckily there's no blood. Just a bump. Thank goodness for angels and hard heads.

Now I'm caught up to today. I'm at church taking a child to the bathroom in the middle of Sacrament meeting. We are getting ready to go back in the chapel, I go to open the bathroom door and my child runs in between me and the door saying they want to do it. Too late! I have already given the door a hard yank because it's heavy and sticks and I watch helplessly as the door runs right into my child's bare foot. (They kept taking them off in the chapel and I hadn't put them back on for our potty break.) I know there is damage done before I even see it.

Their big toe is a bloody mass of skin and toe nail. I rush them to the sink and start running cold water on it. It doesn't look any better and my child is going into shock. Dang it!! I carry my child out of the bathroom and grab someone in the foyer to have them get my hubby. He come's out and we decide that I had better take the child home. While my hubby is taking the child to the car I grab my two year old from the chapel so he can manage the other 3 in my absence.

I get home and unload the children. My injured child is still in shock and I am sick from seeing how bad their toe is. I try my best to clean it up and put a bandage on it but the child won't have any of it. I give up and call my sisters in law to come over so I can take my child to Instacare.

As I'm waiting, I change my two year old out of their church clothes and get them ready for a nap (in their bed this time!) while my other child is sitting on the couch. By the time my sisters get here, my injured child has calmed down and is even trying to walk around. I decide we can wait on Instacare but I still go back to the church to grab the baby from my hubby so he can teach his Sunday School lesson.

I am really exhausted when I get back and I feed my injured child hoping they will get sleepy on a full stomach so I can get a nap. After laying down with my child for an hour and trying to get them to sleep, the rest of my family gets home from church and my nap time is history. My husband is also exhausted from fasting and we are in big trouble because someone has to take care of the children.

We both sit on the couch trying to rest but keep an ear out for the children. The radar in our children must be going off because eachtime I start to fall asleep, they start fighting, or bothering us. I drag myself off the couch and get the children a snack so Daddy can sleep. I feel like a drunkard as I try to dish up the food. Hopefully, I'll catch my second wind soon. And maybe a back rub too from my well rested hubby!!