Much Ado About Nothing

Our van was packed, the radio was blaring, and we were all in a good mood. We were talking over each other about the fun weekend that the kids had just experienced at the mountain retreat where they hung out with their cousins and spent time with their friends.

Down the bumpy gravel road we drove. We admired the horses grazing in the pasture, and Liberty told us about the horses she had spent time with over the weekend. Unlike me, she notices their personalities.

The younger kids loved the group games lead by the teens during their classes. Even more than that, they loved the elaborate playground that included a teepee which sparked their imagination.

We turned onto the paved road that eventually leads to the highway.  I felt good. Approaching the tavern I remembered how fun it was to play hooky from the teaching time to drink a pint with fellow ditchers. Drinking that cider was probably the highlight of the weekend.

But I awoke from my reverie to the chorus of, "Where's Pearl?"

"What do you mean, 'Where's Pearl?'" I countered.

"She's not in the car!" one kid yelled.

"Well then, where is she?" I asked stupidly, afraid that I had done the unthinkable. Did I have so many children that I had lost track them and left one behind?

"I don't know," they all answered. "Back at the retreat center?"

My heart sank. Where did we leave her? Was she Ok? More importantly, did any of the other parents know that I've lost a child?

Quickly, I turned the van around and fumbled with my phone. Why didn't I have anyone's number? Who of her friends' parents could I call to ask if she was with them?

Big, bouncy gravel turned to fast shaking as we tore back to the lodge. On the phone I got ahold of a family who was keeping Pearl for me until I returned.

I was hoping beyond hope that Pearl didn't know we had left her. Maybe she was preoccupied with her friends and didn't notice we were gone. Maybe she was petting the horses through the fence. Maybe she was taking a walk to the playground?

No such luck. I found her with red eyes and hunched shoulders. Surrounded by two families, I could see that the moms were trying to comfort her. She had noticed we left her and she was very upset. Rightly so. She figured out that we didn't notice she was missing when we left. 

As bad as I felt for her, I was just so embarrassed that I was "one of those parents." And I wasn't just one of those parents in the privacy of my own home. No, my girl had to uncover me in front of a church group.

Forgetting a child? Wasn't that just the fodder people needed to accuse me of being careless? Now, I know that everyone makes mistakes, still, I feel under scrutiny by people since I'm a single mom. I'm driven to prove to everyone that I can take care of the kids. I want people to not just think I'm capable but that I'm doing a darn good job.

Because of that fear, I didn't to talk about it. I didn't want to remind anyone that it happened. I didn't laugh about with my kids. And I sure didn't want to include it on this blog.

But I was thinking about it all wrong. Instead, I should of thought about the movie Home Alone. After all, haven't enough parents overlooked a child here or there to the point where Hollywood figured they could make that forgetfulness into a believable movie setting? While Hollywood's version is a hyperbole, I can name more than a handful of parents who've forgotten a child somewhere.

As for Pearl, she's laughs about the incident. While I was worried about scarring her, she's the one who asked me to chronicle this story on the blog in order to remember it. She thinks it funny and occasionally asks me to tell her about that time I forgot her at the retreat center.

Guess I was really worried about nothing.