I had the most scariest, vomit churning, gut wrenching day of my life today and I'm still sick over it. I wasn't even sure if I was going to share it with my blogging world but decided it might serve as a good reminder that you can never be too careful with your little ones.
I sometimes have to work the night shift and last night was one of them. The plan for today was to allow me to get some sleep while Hubby and both sets of grandparents worked on getting our almost six cords of wood stacked. C-dub was at his buddy's house, Taters had a friend over, and Gunny was going to help stack wood (a.k.a. play in the mud and throw sticks around). The plan was good for everyone - or so we thought.
At about 11AM, I am sleeping very soundly when I hear my bedroom door open up and my dad come rushing in. He looks panicked and he yells at me to get up because Gunny was no where to be found. He explains that Gunny had been missing for almost fifteen minutes and they thought he may have trooped up into the wooded area behind our house. We live in a semi-rural location with lots of redwood groves and a sometimes flowing creek that runs through our property. We've had a bear, mountain lion, and a duck-eating bobcat make their presence known; needless to say, I almost threw up when he told me Gunny was out there, possibly in the thick of it and by himself.
I ran outside barefoot, wearing nothing but a bathrobe and a terrified look on my face. We had the whole neighborhood (thank God for wonderful neighbors) searching for him and after another fifteen minutes, we decided to call the sheriff's department since our efforts had been futile. After being transferred several times, we were finally told that someone would be on their way. We didn't care who; we just wanted more bodies to help us search for our baby.
About another ten minutes went by and I was up on the hillside with Hubby, sobbing and thinking the absolute worst. In between the tears, I could hear Grandma D's voice yelling Gunny's name and then, "You're in big trouble!" It was the sweetest sentence I had ever hear her say. Hubby and I ran down the hill and into the driveway where we franticly waited for Grandma D to arrive with our little wanderer, whom she had found just down the street at our neighbor's place.
When she pulled in, Gunny was soaking wet and had bits of shrubbery stuck to his clothes. He had managed to walk through the woods and onto our neighbor's adjoining property about a 1/16th of a mile away. It's not really that far if you look at it, but nearly equivalent to 10 miles for tiny toddler feet.
I grabbed him up and started bawling (again), all the while trying to tell him how wrong it was to do what he did. He looked at me and I saw his bottom lip start to quiver. His only reply to me was, "I wuv you Mama. I was scawered." He then put his head down on my shoulder and began to cry, hugging me tightly and patting my back. Oh my God, Gunny, I was scawered too.
After a nice warm bath and an angry lecture fit for a two year old, he took a nice, long, nap and was no worse for wear when he eventually woke up several hours later.
Looking back, I am amazed that he was able to get past two sets of grandparents, a dad, a big sister and her buddy, a fence line, and three pet pooches who tend to "herd" him - but he did, and he did so quite successfully. I still feel so much emotion when I think about what "could" of happened and I thank God that it did not. I love that little man so much that having just a taste of him being gone was enough for a lifetime.
I've ordered a "kid locater" device tonight he'll be wearing from now on. This will follow the two books on how to parent a hard headed child, I'm borrowing from a friend. Hubby and I also discussed possibly fencing the property - although we're talking about over two acres of fencing which is going to be quite expensive and time consuming. Our final thought is on how we turn a wandering toddler into a little boy who will at least acknowledge us when we call to him? How do you make a two year old understand that he just about gave all his family members a heart attack? How do you "parent" rather than just "chase" your child? I think I need Dr. Phil or maybe even the Super Nanny to get us going on the right track.
I'm reading and re-reading articles on child discipline and punishment - two words which are evidently not supposed to be interchangeable when dealing with a toddler. The lecture, tears, and pure panic he saw seemed to make an impression at the time on his little two year old psyche. Some friends asked if I "beat his butt" when he got home. No, I didn't. I was so happy to have his little butt back in my arms the last thing I thought about was to spank it. And, I don't want to delve into the spanking issue on this posting because I believe it's a personal decision that every parent has to make and live with. It's an option that I did not choose today.
I think my biggest quandary is that I feel like a new parent during this process. I had absolutely zero trouble with his brother and sister at this age so I don't know what the heck I'm doing wrong with him. I know it's the way he's geared but it's scares the crap out of me and goes to show that we all have to buckle down and work together to tame this tiny savage beast. Gunny truly shows that it does take a village to raise a child and I will hopefully become a better parent out of the process.
