Overcome with Fear

We were on a trip to the Salisbury Zoo and Ashton needed to use the restroom at the entrance of the Zoo playground.  After potty business was completed we walked the 50 feet to the car where Jen was waiting with sleeping Tyler and Reagan.

He was 15 feet behind me.

He vanished.

I turned around and began visually scanning the playground behind the restroom and the few cars in front of me. I call his name over, and over, and over again.  Louder, louder, and louder.  Time is quickly racing by and I dash into the playground continuing to call his name.

I can't find him.  I hear him once call for me, but he has been silent for what seems like hours.

I turn around and scan the parking lot behind me and see a water-filled ditch.  I'm totally frantic.  I sprint across to the ditch and start searching from above for Ashton.  I'm calling his name constantly but now feel overcome with emotion.  I'm crying and try to scream his name through my sobs.

Jen joined the search and I realize she is searching the other side of the parking lot.  Out of my peripheral vision, I see a car leave and I am now sure he has been taken.  Please be in the water, so I have a chance to save you from abduction.  He was right behind me.  I can't lose him.  I've had a short time with him.


Just when I thought my life was over, Jen calls out to me, "CHELSEA, HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE!  HE'S FINE!!"  I sprint across to my son, sobbing with a combination of relief and excitement to see his wonderful face.  I embrace him, showering his with kisses and cry even more, now shaking at the thought of losing my precious boy.

Though the entire ordeal lasted only a couple of frightening minutes, I pray it never happens to anyone ever again.

In hindsight, I feel guilty.  I'm fully responsible for him wandering off because I failed to hold his hand, or put him in front of me, when we walked from the restroom to the car.  I cried, which made my mind race, thinking of all the possible horrible conclusions to this saga.  I am the reason he didn't answer.  I instructed him to not enter the playground until we took Reagan and Tyler from the car.  What kid can resist a playground full of colors and endless slides?  He ran in the playground hid somewhere and chose to stay quiet, so he wouldn't get in trouble or leave all the fun stuff.

Am I too hard on him?  Is he fearful of my wrath?

It is nearly impossible to manage a two-year-old at all times, but this incident reminds me that it is easy to get careless.  I have recommitted myself to being diligent, which I hope will prevent anything like this in the future. I'm not naive to think this won't happen again, but hopeful.

losing sleep, but catching bad guys

Sorry for not blogging this last week.  I have plenty to share, but haven't had a moment to sit and write, which is killing me.  

As some already know, Jimmy has returned to police work.  Yes, I said it; he's back to doing what he loves and has successfully restored his manhood.  Frankly, "private security" made being a security guard sound a whole lot cooler than it actually was.  Jimmy was bored to tears during the times when he wasn't supervising and when he was, it was impossible for him to understand his outright unprofessional and under-trained subordinates.  However, that wasn't the straw that broke the camel's back. In summary, it was the upper management team promising him the moon, and every single time, making Jimmy settle for a nightlight. 

At a moment's notice, Jimmy called the Chief of New Carrollton to beg and plead for his job back.  Once they met face to face, immediately, Jimmy was handed keys to a cruiser, his badge, gun, credentials with the State of Maryland, and a schedule to start the following Monday.  AND they even gave him a raise.  Believe me (especially since I was nearly hysterical, freaking out about what in the world we were going to do), we did not expect New Carrollton to hire him back.  The confidence and respect they have for the work Jimmy did for them this fall is remarkable.  We are so incredibly grateful.  Not only for the tangible benefits they have graciously given, but mostly because Jimmy is the happiest he's been since last summer. 

I'm saying all of this to explain the following video.  Jimmy was involved in a major warrant crack down and was pretty much the star of the show.  The reporter shadowed Jimmy's team of four officers as they served 500 warrants in just one apartment complex!  Nice neighborhood, huh?  I was, of course, terrified that this secret raid would result in my husband's final showdown and eventual death, but all is well.  Thank God for that!!

The below video features Jimmy over and over again bringing people to the paddy wagons for processing and their free ride to jail.  The news story says that 15 warrants were served, but Jimmy says it was somewhere in the 30-40 range by just his team.  Either way, he's sure this is his big break...

An ode to Cath, the greatest mother I know

I would be a piss-poor daughter if I didn't take a moment to recognize all that my mother has done for our family over the years.  She's a trail-blazing workin' woman and an inspiration to us, always showing that it is possible to do it all.  In fact, when we decided to have me stay at home, a bit of my feminist pride died within me as I always dreamed I would end up just like my superhero mother.  Our paths are a bit different between the two of us, but one this is for sure: my mom rocks. 

Mom, you should thank me for digging up only the most flattering pictures of you, blatantly disregarding the feelings of anyone else.  I didn't even sensor the embarrassing pictures of me during puberty, which I feel shows a hint of maturity.   

Celebrating a birthday circa 1985 nearly setting the house ablaze with the five hundred candles.  I assume this was dad's idea, since he loves reminding Mom of their 4 month age difference.  I love that dad's in a pink shirt and Trevor's underwear is outside his pants. From left to right: birthday girl, Trevor, Mom-moms, me, and Dad.

Singing at the senior center.  Sweet hats, girls.  From left to right: Mom, Lauren, me, and Papa, my mom's dad.

Buffington family in Hawaii in 1994.  I like the creative pose, distracting from the sole reason one travels to Hawaii: the scenery. 

Family fun on the set of the Fulerton Children's Repertory Theater.   I hope I'm wearing stage makeup or else I'm working the night shift on another kind of stage. Trevor's pumped to be alive.  Yay for the early teen years!

Buffington boating extravaganza.  From left to right: Lauren (with the SC shirt), me, Dad, Trevor, Papa, Mom, and Mom-moms.

At our house on Isle of Palms, SC.  Lauren don't kill me for this one...  at least I'm suffering with you.

Look at Cath shake it! 

Mom's acting goofy because hats are not optional at the Strottman's!

Sexy legs contest won without question!

Papa and Grammy are the best!!

 

I'll be a happy woman...

I feel obligated to post something about it being Mother's Day this weekend, since I've seen so many friends post facebook statuses such as:
  

To all the unselfish moms out there who traded sleep for dark circles, salon haircuts for a ponytail, long showers for quick ones, late nights for early mornings, and designer bags for diaper bags, and wouldn't change a thing. Let's see how many moms post this who don't care what they gave up and instead LOVE what they got in return..Post this if you LOVE being a MOM!
  

I've carried a baby within my body. I've slept with a baby on my chest. I have kissed boo boos, mended broken hearts, been puked on and pooped on & spent sleepless nights in a rocking chair. But I wouldn't have it any other way. My body is far from magazine perfect, but when I look into the mirror I see a mom, and there is no greater honor or blessing. Make this your status if you're proud to be a mom. 
 

I considered joining these moms by posting similar statuses that praise my own selfless mother, lamenting the struggles of being a mom, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.   I want and need more than what a status update can provide.  What I  really want is recognition of my sacrifice on a daily basis, not just on Mother’s Day.    Am I needy or crazy?
 

So much of motherhood is thankless.   Yesterday, I cleaned up vomit five separate times and one of those occasions, caught the vomit in both of my hands nearly throwing up myself at the substance's consistency, smell, and heat.  I wrestled on clothes, cleaned up splattered food off of the floor- twice, served as referee, judge and jury, and even took a temperature reading from my child's nether region. There is no doubt that I would do anything for my children, but I think every parent needs to hear words of appreciation from their partner for the infinitesimal tasks that keep the house afloat.  Especially since this job never ends and the insecure part of me feels like every other stay at home parent is better at this than I am. (My house is a wreck and all I can think of while typing this is the never ending to-do list of chores that I am neglecting...) 
 

I'm not talking about idol worship, though I could probably get used to it; I'm looking for encouraging words, a smile, hug, kiss, telling me every day that you know that I am uniquely qualified to be the matriarch of our little brood.   Then reassure me that we are not having any more children and that I will return to corporate America at some point in the future, and I'll be a happy woman. 
 
For all of the work they create around here, at least they are cute, aren't they?!

Eating my words...

I knew it was bound to happen at some point.  I should have known it was coming, because parenting makes you eat your words all the time; for example: "I'll never change a poopy diaper!" or "I'll never wake up 500 times per night; my kid will just deal with it!" or "I'm never getting rid of my motorcycle!" or "I'm never getting stretchmarks!"  The list could go on forever.   Today, I opened wide and chomped down on my "I'm never going to let my kid piss in a parking lot!"

I've discussed how potty training is mostly training us parents, and this month I learned this lesson the hard way: through Ashton's three uncharacteristic accidents.  The most memorable of these happened at the tot lot.  At first, I noticed a spot on Ashton's butt and thought it was from a slide.  As the wet spot grew, I knew Ashton had sprung a leak.  When the spot morphed into a full-throttle accident, I grabbed him and pulled him to the side for a quick wardrobe change.  Little did I know that he wasn't close to being finished.  Air activated the hose and boom, I was covered in pee only to look up to see Brandi laughing hysterically at me.  This of course explains the above picture...  Naturally, my being assaulted by pee has made me a little jumpy when Ashton says, "Mommy, pee pee time!"
 
On a trip to quickly pick up a jogging stroller purchased from Craigslist, I was racing against the clock because the seller needed to leave his house at a very precise time.  I knew before I left our house that I was pushing my luck, so I begged Ashton to hold it when he said three separate times, "Mommy, pee pee time," and "Mommy, no pee pee in car.  Pee pee in pah-pie." I couldn't afford to stop even for a second, because being late meant that I took the hour and thirty minute drive for nothing.  Finally, we skidded into the seller's parking spot and loaded the stroller into the car.  Suddenly, Ashton reminded me of his need to use the "pah-pie."  I couldn't bring myself to ask a perfect stranger to 1. further delay his plans and 2. let unknown people enter his house and use his bathroom.  Furthermore, with a paranoid cop of a husband, I knew my ass would be grass if I went into this nice man's home even for an emergency.  So, I let Ashton pee in his sippy cup for fear that he would urinate all over his car seat, which, as we all know, requires Einstein's IQ to return to normal once the seat cover is removed. 

You got that right, I ate my words and the aftertaste still lingers...

Happy 1st Birthday, Sweet Baby Rea!

So much has changed over the last year, but one thing is for sure: we would be lost without Reagan.  When I found out I was pregnant with Reagan, we had no clue what an amazing addition she would be to our family.  She's the perfect feminine balance for Ashton, and finally, Jimmy has a kid who loves him more than me.  I secretly wanted a boy, because I get boys; they like sports, they eat a lot, and they love their mamas. Simple. I figured girls require more work because you have to comb their hair and make sure their outfits match. Plus, they're emotional and cry at every turn.  I couldn't have been more wrong.  I love having our little girl SO much. Thank you, Reagan, for teaching me that all of my trivial, preconceived notions were totally off base.

What makes Reagan so great; she is one pleasant surprise after another. 

I'm a big fan of nicknames, ask my sister Lauren, who I refer to as Al or Ken, and my brother, Trevor, who I call Beau.  For posterity, I thought I'd post the nicknames that we came up with for Reagan this year:

~Naynee: As Ashton started talking better, this was what he first called Reagan.  Even though he can now say almost any word, he refuses to call her anything but Naynee.  And we don't mind at all.

~Rea Rea:  My mom doesn't care for this perversion of Reagan.  She says, "with such a pretty name like Reagan, why would you call her Rrrraaay Rrraaayyy?"  However, it has stuck around and is most used by Jimmy.

~Nayners:  This is a Chelsea adaptation of Naynee.  Something about Nayners is cuter to me than Naynee.

~Sweet baby Rea: Reagan is joy personified.  I don't know how we originally came up with the nickname, but it stuck  when we would sing it the tune of Niel Diamond's "Sweet Caroline." Ashton would even do the "Bum, Bum, Bum!"  Then a teammate asked us why we named her after a BBQ sauce.   That was unintentional, but it suits her completely, so we will keep saying it anyway.  Plus the BBQ sauce is delicious!

~Swiper:  As I shared in a previous Blog, Reagan cannot be trusted!  She is very resourceful and despite her small stature, she can reach almost anything in the house. 

~Peanut Brittle: I am the only person who calls her this because she is such a little peanut.  Ashton has always been ginormous, and we've enjoyed having an average infant around.  She seems so tiny!  A normal person would just call her "Peanut," but I added the "brittle" for some reason...It stuck, well for me, anyway.

~ Reagan Grace: This isn't a nickname, as it is her first and middle name, but I like using it when she's being precocious.  It is so sophisticated and such a pretty name, that I would hate for it to go to waste.  The southerner in me hopes that she starts using a double name when she gets older! 

Most amazing day ever...

Perhaps it was unwise to start my journey as a stay at home mom while living in an area with the most unpredictable and blah-for-half-the-year climate.  Maybe I'm not creative enough for days on end indoors and should eliminate any northern states from our list of perspective places to live.  Doesn't really matter the cause, but the end result is the same-- winter is hell with two little kids.  Everything is more difficult because everyone is stir-crazy.  Since the sunshine has consistently hit my face for the last couple of days, I finally realized that these walls were suffocating me.  Sure, I love my kids and all, but at some point, you run out of things to do and start acting a little nutty. 

Today proved this point, as we had the best day ever.  I was lucky to have met a kind woman, who invited us to come along with her group of friends to the beach.  I've never been much of a beach goer, and unlike my hyper-social husband, almost dread unfamiliar people, so at first I was going to turn down the invite.  Until about .23 seconds later, I remembered that I had been on house arrest, and this could be my entree into society.  Lacey and her friends were so welcoming, and it was as if we had been friends for years. It must be because they are military wives. 

To be fair, having the sand beneath our toes contributed about 5% to the joy of the day.  I was mesmerized by Ashton.  He was social, kind, happy, fearless, and a great listener.  The entire time he was radiant, including packing up and leaving, which we all know is typically the witching hour of any trip.  He was the kid that other parents saw and must have thought, "wow, now that's a cool kid..."

While driving home, with the kids sacked out behind me, I reflected on the past few hours and caught myself smiling.  You see, there are days when I wonder what could have been if I would have taken a different path last fall.  Sure would have been easier on our poor bank account...  But life isn't about stuff.  It's all about moments. 

After an introduction consisting of 3 words, Ashton and Austin were friends immediately despite the 9 year difference.

Reagan was quick to learn that sand is cool to play with and not cool to eat.

Our humble beach set up.  We're spoiled!  Incidentally, this was the first time I used the umbrella and about half way through our time I realized I had it set up backwards.  No worries; it did the trick!

Our group eating lunch and snacks.  Another side note: a packed lunch on the beach with kids is a bad idea.  Sand everywhere... 

Reagan surveying her surroundings.

Mom, this water is freezing.  Please remove me at once!  Back to the sand, por favor!!

Who knew heaven is a place on earth?

All worn out dreaming of our next trip.