Disasters Happen

We have a morning routine at my house. Get up. Change Logan's diaper. Get him into the tub or into the shower with Daddy. Breakfast. I start my chores while Logan watches a bit of morning TV.

This routine has been relatively steady for the past 6 months or so. Occasionally a bit of stirring will occur if we have a doctor's appointment or other prearranged early morning happenings. But, all in all, our mornings have been quite dependable.

But, as they say, all good things must come to an end. The culprit? I guess we could blame it on wrist development...

Logan can now open the door.

Now, Logan's newly developed motor skill hasn't completely ruined my morning routine for all time. Let's just say it made for a very interesting Thursday.

Thursday morning. Quite routine. I'm busily cleaning up breakfast, enjoying the sun and the smell of the cut grass. I can hear the lawn crew at work around our condo making things lovely and fresh. Then I take a quick break to go to the restroom. I usually keep the door open but I just wanted a few minutes to be alone without the watchful eyes of my two year old.

I can hear him outside the door begging to come in then just the sounds of the television. Business finished I open the door and turn into the kitchen not taking the quick second I usually take to check on Logan's whereabouts.

Then an urgent knock on the door followed by a series of rings (bad combo in my opinion). As I cross the family room my heart jumps when I realize Logan isn't where I put him. I open the door and see a familiar neighbor with Logan and behind him one of the lawn crew.

I gasped. Stunned I grab Logan with a hug and repeatedly say, "Thank You!" The neighbor who I've seen around but never talked with said very sweetly, "This gentlemen found him down the street. But don't worry, he [Logan] knew right where to take me when I asked him where his mommy was!" I could have kissed her for her kindness. The lawn man, however, not so compassionate. In his broken English he scolded, "You should watch him! He was behind the truck!"

I had no defense. I simply said thank you again, shut the door and hugged Logan who was completely unaware of the situation.

Being programmed into the day's routine we were off to our next errand on the list. Grocery shopping. As I was driving I was trying to push out the thoughts I was having. My mind kept wandering to "what might have happened!" I was pushing back tears trying to tell myself it's a new behavior for us all. We'll be more careful.

At the stoplight I pull up behind a truck that says in bold letters, "Disasters Happen." I cried. Oh, boy did I cry. I allowed myself five minutes to mourn my mistake. My human state. Those words of the lawn man burned into my brain, "You need to watch him!" I wanted to say, "I do! I do! I watch him all the time! I try to anticipate, to prevent, to teach. I set boundaries and repeat them over and over. I would strap him to my back until he's 30 years old if I could but I can't!"

Then my mind shifted to the neighbor. Her words of encouragement. Her pride in telling me that he knew the way back home. Then I prayed in gratitude. I'm so grateful that the lawn man saw him and brought him to the neighbor. I'm so grateful that their lawn truck was there to distract him from going onto a busier street. I'm so grateful for that wise neighbor who smiled and told me not to worry. I'm grateful that Logan knew his way back home.

It makes me realize that this feeling of helplessness will never go away. It has begun. Knowing his personality, Logan will often open doors on his own. And I hope he does. The only thing I can do is prepare him then pray that angels will surround him to keep him safe. I pray that human kindness will pull through. That whoever he meets will treat him with love and respect. But when they don't and he finds himself in need that he will come home.

This experience has been a tender one for me. I tend to gather little bits of what I learn on this journey of motherhood. This is a good bit. No matter how painful.