I almost lost them yesterday.

My girls. They just wandered away.

We had just returned from the big family reunion in Edmonton: four days on the road, rest stops, hotel pools, West Edmonton Mall water park, big picnic site. They were fine---no injuries (barring a wasp sting for Molly in Nana's backyard), no anxious moments wondering where they were.

So, we were back home, breathing a sigh of relief. Molly and Hanaa were outside playing on our street where they had played a thousand times before. Noah was inside reading. He was joking about them running away. Then they did. All of a sudden they were not on our street. They were not at the two close parks. They were not within earshot.

I tried to keep calm. Noah was doing a really good job of freaking out for both of us.

Some neighbours and I did some quick searching and knocking on doors, nothing. I called Marc. He got in the van and picked them up on his way home; they were  walking merrily along to the far-away park down the street.

I still don't know why. Molly said something about Noah telling them they weren't allowed within a mile of the house, and Hanaa said she thought she was dreaming. Seriously. She was not wearing shoes.

Right before Marc let me know he found them, I was getting ready to call the police. I could not remember what Molly had on. I knew exactly what Hanaa was wearing because she refused about a dozen outfits before agreeing to one. Sometimes I'm glad she's a diva.

So, today, I took pictures of the kids with my phone first thing in the morning. I think I might do it every morning. Just in case. 

 

a change in perspective

I never look forward to the daycare pick-up. Hmmm, let me rephrase that. I like the daycare pick-up itself and getting in a little chat with Shar or some of the other daycare parents and getting to see my kids for the first time since breakfast. I do not look forward to the time between picking the kids up at daycare and when we sit down for supper. We are all tired, and sometimes we are all grumpy. Walking home from daycare sometimes gobbles my (limited) patience whole. Here's how it usually goes.

Noah talks my ear off about his latest writing project or thoughts on videogame characters. If I have the sled, Hanaa rides along fairly contentedly. Molly will jump on and off the sled making it run into my heels or throw giant chunks of snow onto the sled provoking indignant screams from Hanaa. That girl can scream. Molly will completely ignore me when I ask her to stop and bursts into tears if(when) I raise my voice. While Hanaa screams and Molly cries, Noah will continue his monologue and expect me to respond at appropriate intervals.

(Long story short - it is a GONG SHOW! It is a kind culture shock coming from an office where I do not actually have to speak to anyone all day.)

Once we get home, I usually let them watch TV for half an hour while I make supper. It keeps me sane-ish.

So today, I arrived at daycare with fear and trepidation. Noah has been having a hard time lately getting back into routine and has been really exhausting to be around. So, I thought I might be arriving to a tired/angry Noah, which is even worse than the scenario described above.

But, he had a good day today. He was happy and relational. He had stories to tell.

Noah told me about his new comic book; Hanaa sat on my shoulders and sang "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" in my ear, and Molly just jumped around and played with snow balls and interjected little stories when Noah paused for breath. I walked home from daycare listening to three happy voices all singing their own tunes at the same time. Cacophony? perhaps, but I could pick out happy little melodies from all three.