Not long ago, we got a chuckle, realizing that we were both the kids who would make the phone call late at night from sleep-overs because we wanted to go home.
Except for staying with my friend Mandy, as a kiddo, I honestly don't think I ever made it over night at any friends.
My Aunt Penny, still jokes, that she would hate it when I would want to come stay with her because she just knew that she would be making a late night drive to calm me down.
I like home.
With that said, we tend to carry this on to our kids.
We aren't the parents who send our babies off for the weekend...
Or go on weekly date nights....
There have been times that we have something going on that is not kid friendly, and my mom will keep them.
We roll into her house, at whatever time we make it there, because we need to see our tiny-turtles and know they are fine before we can sleep.
In Maddox's 4 years of life, I can probably count on one hand how many nights he has slept away from me.
And thus far, I have only trusted 2 people with that honor!
Yesterday I missed out on the CO shooting stuff for most of the day.
Nick Jr had no coverage and it wasn't until I saw a few FB statuses "praying for Colorado" that I realized there was some crazy-tragedy over night.
So I popped onto a news station, and caught bits and pieces and then I called Lance for him to fill in the holes.
From then on, I had that story on my mind.
What would I have done?
Even Lance's pistol, that is always strapped to his hip, wouldn't have helped us against his full body armour.
What if it would have been a girls night out?
Would I have been the friend that would have helped my pal with the gun-shot to the leg, out the door...
or would I have saved myself, thinking about my babies?
I get a lump the size of Canada in my throat when I think about the dad with the infant...
Or the 6 year old, who died.
I can't stop thinking about how evil that normal-looking boy was.
How do people do these horrible crimes and not feel the pain they inflict on others?
Why did people feel the need to go to the midnight showing of that movie? With their kids...
And is this story going to cross my mind one day my boys beg to do the same?
Too many questions... no answers at all.
So I strapped the boys in their 5point harnesses and we headed to see daddy at work.
After lunch, I thought I would run into Home Goods/ TJ Maxx, right near Lance's work for some school clothes for Maddox.
I ended up ditching my buggy, however, and walking out because Maddox had used up his chances, and I had to hold on to my word.
"We're going home."
I didn't take his tears completely to heart this time, like I usually would or let it ruin my day...
my kids were safe, and with me...
On my way back, my mom called and said she was keeping Ellie and Gunner for the night and wanted Maddox to come out too.
He was in trouble...
And I was on slightly on edge....
but I let him go.
We commented a few times about how much we missed Maddox, but we made the most of some time with B, and headed to bed.
I turned on the 10:00 news, (which I never watch) to fill more gaps in the Batman shooting only to hear another tragedy of a 3 year old was left in a daycare van and died in Dallas.
I can (but don't want to) imagine the horror of pain that mom went through when she got the news...
And I know now that he was sleeping...
but all I could imagine last night, was Maddox, when he goes into the garage or the back yard without unlocking the door and panics to get back in.
He immediately starts crying, screaming and beating on the door as if he is the Hulk.
He is fighting for air and wiping tears, acting as if he is moments from death, within the few seconds it takes me to unlock the door and let him back in.
In my head, this baby was fighting the same way.
For some reason I had it in my mind that he knew he was dying and I couldn't breathe.
At 11:00 last night, I was in a tearful breakdown and Lance agreed to make the 35 minute trip to pick up our boy, if I needed, but went out of his way to assure me that we didn't need to.
He told me that there was no way he could get out of their house and into their car...
or that no crazy man would bombard their home during the night in gun fire.
He had to remind me that even though he wasn't in our home...
He was with my mom, and to me, she has always been home.
He was fine.
I called, anyway, and talked to him
My sweet sister, (who knows I am crazy) moved him to her bed...
and I slept.
Today, Beckham and I went to get Maddox.
Lance and I switched cars for the day and I had to wear this pair of old skanky Oakleys all day, because they were all I could find in his console.
(I was still waiting on my hair to dry so I could pull it up, so pardon the lioness hair.)
I then stopped for an ice coffee at McDonalds (for the same reason I buy snacks at Dollar Tree and dresses at Ross) and slurped up a slippery substance like snot, and had to pull over to puke it into the street.
Then I picked up on my school clothes shopping from yesterday...
But Beckham became sick of riding, and decided to crawl through a rack of clothes and fall onto his head so hard it made a sound that rips at your gut and insta-lumped making him cry harder than I have heard him cry yet.
Right after his traumatic episode, a set of brothers pulled a cart onto themselves and I rendered some pediatric nursing skill to another knotted head and a wounded hand.
After all of the madness, I rewarded myself with the most perfectest pair of suede flats for fall,
and tortilla soup.
Back to bead.
Praying for all of those families in mourning.
And for mine...
Surviving my anxiety.