Last night Rob and I had the opportunity to go up to Girl's Camp. We brought dessert up with us and were able to visit with the girls and leaders and be part of their testimony meeting. The girls in our ward are awesome and I am always impressed at how friendly, loving and kind they are to each other (and to me). I have not been up to a Girl's Camp since my own 4th year of camp which I'm thinking was when I was 15...so not really that long ago (you can't hear me, but I'm clearing my throat right now).
About 30-40 min. before we were to walk out the door, I fed my older boys a snack at our kitchen table and was running around the house getting things ready to leave. You know, the normal things like setting out pajamas for the boys, changing my outfit, cleaning up the kitchen, etc. I started the dishwasher and was talking to Burke about where we were going and that we'd be back late after he was asleep. We'd been talking for a while when I asked, "Where is Hewitt?" I started calling for him and did not hear a response so I continued calling his name. I assumed that he would either be in his room playing or down in our basement playing but could not find him either place. I have never not been able to find Hewitt after a minute or two (c'mom, I mean our house isn't that big--how many places are there to look for a child?). I checked our yard, the cul-de-sac, some other yards and still could not find him. I was starting to panic internally and kept asking Burke questions like, "When did he leave the table? Did you see where he went? Did you hear one of the doors open?" Burke who was very matter-of-fact about the whole thing was in return asking me questions like, "Do you think Hewitt was kidnapped? Do you think that Hewitt found a secret trap door in our house?" and so on...
After doing what I felt was a thorough searching job I called for help. When my next-door-neighbor answered the phone, I completely broke down and said, "I can't find Hewitt!" She responded immediately and checked all of the backyards in our cul-de-sac (interestingly, no other immediate neighbors were home) and made several phone calls. I dialed another number and when a man answered I couldn't remember who I had called and said, "Is this Rob?" It was our ward's Elders Quorum President/husband to one of my best friends. At this point with others searching the neighborhood, I finally dropped to my knees and told Burke that we needed to pray. We said a prayer and I instantly felt a calm feeling and the reassurance that Hewitt was fine. I was very grateful for the peace I was feeling, but still could not account for my three-year-old! I called Rob (who was already on his way home), and again searched every closet, our van, the garbage and recycling bins, and every toy box, bench, and place that I could think of. I stepped outside and saw that Rob's sister (babysitting for us once again), Rob, and our Relief Society President (another great friend) were all pulling up to our house at the same time. I completely broke down when I saw these people and once again said, "I've lost Hewitt." Rob ran into the house and started yelling Hewitt's name and heard a faint, "What?"
Hewitt had been hiding for about 25-30 minutes in the far back corner of my walk-in closet behind all of our covered, long hanging items like formal dresses, winter coats, and my big full slip from my wedding. I had "looked" in this closet several times, but did not physically move the clothing as I did not think that he would be hiding on purpose. My recently potty-trained boy had hid because he had had an "accident" in his underwear. I can only assume that when he heard me calling and yelling for him that he thought he was in trouble? Accidents have been rare, and this of course brings up the point of "have I ever made him feel bad about having an accident before?" Of course I hugged and held him, and while I got him all cleaned up I told him that it's OK to have an accident, but that I was very worried about him and that he always needs to answer when I call for him.
I bore my testimony at camp last night and mentioned how grateful I am for prayer and for the comfort and peace that it can bring. How would I ever survive motherhood without prayer? I am so thankful for safe, healthy children and also for such great neighbors and friends (thanks so much guys!) who were so quick to respond and help me yesterday.
In this photo Hewitt is standing in front of our Rose of Sharon tree that just got its first blooms over the weekend...I've been anxiously waiting for this "first" for a few weeks now.
Other early memories include wondering why everyone else got to stay up later than me (duh, I'm the youngest) and still being wide awake when my older sister (8 years older) would eventually come in to our shared room, turn on the light and her "new wave" music and start reading or doing homework. As I got older I would often be up late talking on the phone, listening to my own music, doing homework or talking with my brother Todd. In college, I was always up late and pulled so many all-nighters that it will probably shorten my life by at least a year or so... Even now, when I'm supposed to know better, I perpetually stay up later than I should and I really can't recall EVER going to bed before 10:00pm unless I was sick--really sick.
Oxi Clean, you once again did your thing and my carpet and rug look as good as new. Thanks!