It was November of 1982. Wrestling five children into winter wear for a trip to the park district had exhausted me, and no one was even in the car yet. As I was readying the last, the first was pulling off his coat. “I’m hot,” he said.
This was my first outing with all five since baby Hans had been born a month earlier. “Help me, Lord,” I breathed while strapping one year old Klaus into his car seat. “Poor kid,” I thought. “Still a baby, but he already has a baby brother.”
Once at the park district, I busied myself filling out paperwork for four year old Linnea’s gymnastics class, proud of myself for remembering the checkbook. Suddenly I went cold. Where was the new baby?
“Where’s Hans?” I screeched to no one in particular. Nelson and Lars stopped rough-housing and began looking all over the floor of the lobby. “Is he still in the car?” I asked.
Leaving my checkbook on the counter, I ran for the door. The children followed. Finding Hans’ car seat empty, I shouted, “Get in! Everybody in! Hurry up!”
My tires squealed as we flew out of the parking lot toward home. How could I be so irresponsible? I was this child’s mother, for goodness sake! As we raced home, that verse from Isaiah popped into my mind: “Even if a woman forgets her nursing child, I will not forget you.”
“You’re right,” I thought. “I forgot… What kind of a mother am I?”
Leaving the car running in the driveway (more incompetence), I took the porch steps two at a time. Where had I last seen him? When had I last touched him?
Zipping his snowsuit… in our bedroom… on our bed… and there he was, still sound asleep in the center of the mattress, unaware of the crisis. The older children rushed in behind me, relieved to see the lost baby had been found, and their mother had calmed down.
Scanning the line-up for my one year old, in an instant I felt nauseous. “Where’s Klaus?” I asked. “Is he still in the car?”
“No,” said the six year old. “He never got in the car.”
“What?”
“You left him at the park district.”
“Back in the car!” I was screeching again. “Hurry! Hurry!” Soon we were squealing tires again. And sure enough, there was Klaus, sitting on the park district counter next to my checkbook, securely encircled by the arms of the office secretary. He hadn’t even missed us.
“I knew you’d be back,” she grinned.
“Oh God,” I said out loud. “Please make me count my children!”
Sadly, that’s just one of many such incidents in my mothering past, but raising young children is difficult. The days are micro-chopped into minute-long pieces, punctuated by one interruption after another. At any one of those junctures, sanity is uncertain.
Thankfully, no single event defines a mother or shapes a childhood. The day of my park district debacle I didn’t receive a brand on my forehead that said “Bad Mother.” But I did realize something very important that day….
(to be continued)
“Can a woman forget her nursing child and have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, but I, the Lord, will not forget you.” (Isaiah 49:15)
Absolutely hilarious! Everyone’s asleep and I had to try very hard to get through this tonight without waking everyone up I was laughing so hard! Thank you so much for sharing this story! Have you ever seen the movie “Home Alone”? The young son in a large family gets left behind in the family’s mad rush to get out the door and to the airport. I never understood how someone could actually forget a child…that is, until I had 6 of my own, born one on top of the next. I soooo understand and could tell you similar stories…it’s nice to know I’m in good company. 😉 I’m so relieved and thankful that God doesn’t forget things or get distracted like I do. Knowing He’s in control makes getting through the roughest days worthwhile and meaningful. As hectic as life can get I am grateful for each blessing He’s sent our way. Looking forward to tomorrow’s post.
Relying on Him,
Andrea
Sooo funny! Maybe now I can forgive myself for our trip to Philadelphia 47 years ago. We parked in an open parking lot and set out walking with our three young children. Two blocks down, I remembered that we now had four children. Racing back to the car, we found infant Eric still asleep in the back.
You are the best mom on the planet. I will be thinking of you all weekend. 🙂
God bless you Margaret, and you still have all your marbles!!! God was sure watching over all of you. Thanks for the chuckle and I think maybe I am better than I thought!!!!
“All night, all day….angels watching over me and our little ones.” ;0)
You are in very good company – apparently there is a good story about one of the Elsen kids being left at Moody Church. Claudia might remember it.
Marni, what a great laugh I had with this post. Just think it took you till number 5 to do this. we almost went out for ice ccream shortly after our first came along and was sleeping. Ih getting into the car, oh yes we have a baby now. I believe our guardian angles work overtime when our kids are little. Have a Happy Mother’s Day.
I know it wasn’t funny at the time, but looking back…we have to laugh to keep from crying…I have a similar story – and it was my daughter..about age 9-10 yrs.,..left in the bathroom at a service station on I-75…thank God, I missed her soon as we were pulling onto the highway, and could get right back…..didnt lessen the feeling in the pit of my stomach when I saw her standing there watching us pull away…and I was in the back of our ‘truck camper’ – beating on the window trying to get my husband’s attention. thank God for His Angels!!
We’ve all- (Mothers) – kept them busy.
God bless each one of you!!
Hysterical! In the funny sense now, but in the distraught sense then, I’m sure. 🙂
Hilarious! No wonder you like “I Love Lucy” so much….this is definitely something she would have done, if she had five kids. In fact, it would have made a great episode.
How funny–later!! But that was intense panic! I could just picture the whole event. I lost Lora at the Lincoln Park Zoo once, so I know a bit of what you felt. And the grace of God covers a multitude of sins! Amen!!!
Oh my! That reminds me of the time we drove off from Christian Liberty with my littlest Jr. K standing at the curb. We were a few blocks away when an intelligent child of mine said, “Mom, I think you forgot Nicole!” When we returned she was simply standing there and said she knew we would come back.