When I was four, my mother forgot me at the neighbors and I think that made all the difference. Not really, but boy howdy was it a moment for the baby books.
We’d gone to the neighbors. Which when you live past the end of the earth, it’s a drive to get anywhere including the neighbors. Anyhoo, we’d gone to be neighborly or so they could have a coffee klatch or some such thing. All I know is that my mom’s neighborly moment meant I got to go play with the neighbors’ two youngest kids who had a basement and that basement was filled with toys, the likes I couldn’t imagine outside the the Sears Christmas catalogue. So we played in the basement and the ladies did something upstairs and all was well.
Until I wondered where my mom was. Cue the sad panda music.
Honestly, I’m not sure who was more freaked out, me or the dad who had no blooming idea what to do with my hysterically crying and runny nose self. I’m not sure where the Missus Neighbor was but I do remember the faces of those two kids and their dad as they tried to figure out how to calm me down for the 30 minutes or so that my mom was gone.
Fast forward nearly 40 years and you might be wondering why I’m telling this story. Or, you might be a decent detective and are putting 2 and 2 together…
One mother, three children…did Kristina forget one of her children and thus forfeit her own Mother of the Year award?
Yes, yes I did. Littlest was at a play date with a neighbor who very nicely walked him home when I didn’t arrive at the agreed-upon time to pick him up.
And unlike me, Littlest only laughed after he asked “Did you forget me Mom?”
I guess if I win any awards it won’t be for my ability to keep track of three kids and the time.