ohbloodyhell8

Last night I went to church for a meeting.  The boys came with me.  They like going to church with me when I have a meeting because they get to play in the nursery.  They’re too old for nursery now so this is one of the few opportunities they get to play in there.  Well, I caught them riding in the little wagon down the ramp.  I told them to stop and go back in the nursery.  The oldest got very angry.  I went back to my meeting.

Ten minutes or so later, I realized it was really quiet out there.   I walked down the hall to the nursery to find the door open and the following note on the floor:

Well, home is 12 miles of country roads away from the church so you know I ran out of the church like a maniac and started shouting their names, my eyes wildly looking in every direction trying to figure out where they were.  Then I heard the church door open and a very scared and timid but still loud voice called out “we’re here, Mom”.

I turned and went to them, put my arms around their shoulders, walked them back into to the church and down the hall to the nursery.  I told the crying, wailing boys to stay in the nursery and play quietly.  I went back to my meeting.

15 minutes later I checked on them again.  And found the door open with a note on the floor…and my youngest playing contentedly while the oldest was crying in the bathroom.

Oh, what a night.  My oldest wept and wailed for the rest of the night.  He protected his youngest brother.  Oldest said he forced youngest into it.  I pointed out that unless he dragged his brother to the kitchen (where they hid) then his brother went on his own.   When we got home, we discussed the problem with pranks-like freaking out your mother, making her run and causing all of her boo-boos to hurt even more.  Then we went over everything that could have happened if they had really tried to walk home.  I told them that I was about to run back into the church, pull the people from my meeting and have them drive off in different directions to look for my sons while I called the police and tried to remember what each had been wearing.  I also pointed out how dangerous the roads are for two young boys to walk on-no sidewalks, not a lot of streetlights, deer.  More wailing cries from my oldest.  Even some soft cries from my youngest.  Many apologies were given.

This morning both apologized again.  I shared the adventure at work, with the notes, and we all enjoyed the story.  It wasn’t funny last night, but I have already lost the anger.  The fear lingers still…but that will fade (or not).  When I got home from work, there were sticky notes guiding me to my bedroom.  There on my bed was a mother and baby panda (we call our oldest “Panda”) with another note:

“Dear Mom,

Do not be alarmed by the note.  I just want to say I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I treat you like you’re the enimey.  I love you and you love me.  If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here.  (I was born).  Love, H”

It’s true.  They love me and I love them, even when they scare the dickens out of me.