So, the high majority of you who read my blog know that I have two boys. Two wonderful, beloved, darling little boys.
And, as anyone who has kids knows, having kids means giving up alot of your basic "rights" in life. Like the right to a good night's sleep.
And, as anyone knows, sleep deprivation leads to all sorts of interesting things. My own experience with sleep deprivation has lead me to what is and probably will forever be one of the scariest and most embarrassing moments of my entire life.
It happened when Liam was a baby. Jonny worked an evening shift as a janitor, leaving around 3 or 4 and getting home sometime after midnight.
On this particular night, I had put Liam to bed, and fell asleep myself. Sometime later, I woke up to Liam fussing. I went over to his crib to check on him and HE WAS NOT THERE.
I freaked. I started looking all over the house. Maybe I had put him in my bed with me and forgot. NOPE. Maybe he was in the other room. NOPE. I seriously searched EVERYWHERE and COULD NOT FIND HIM. I even lifted the lid of the toilet, although how he would have gotten in there and closed the lid on himself, I still can't figure out.
So, I was seriously scared out of my mind. I was seconds away from calling Jon in tears....
And then....he fussed again. And I finally found him.
You want to know where? I'll tell you where.
I HAD BEEN HOLDING HIM THE ENTIRE TIME!I must had him in bed with me and not realized it. That's all I can think.
Even now, as I write out the story, it seems so ridiculous. And surreal. As if it should have been a bad dream and not real. But, the memory of that night still ties my stomach up in knots from the genuine fear I had while searching the house for the boy I was holding.