I Lost ... My Mind!

I really can't complain about my morning routine. My husband rises at 5 a.m. every day. Being the wonderful, loving husband that he is (and knowing that I come to bed around 1 - he catches me every. single. time - groan), he usually gets my ES up and out the door to catch his 7:30 a.m. bus each morning. This allows me to sleep until YS or MS wake me.

Thanks to the little bug he has been fighting, and the meds he is now taking, ES often feels ill in the morning or needs to use the restroom just when the bus is about to arrive. Such was the case this morning. At 7:40, my hubby gently woke me and explained that I would have to take ES to school because nature called at an inopportune time.

This was a good thing, really. By the time I returned home, I was wide awake and didn't spend my normal half hour trying to rouse myself from the couch. I was even feeling quite productive ... this morning. So productive, I decided to take the boys to the library (they've been begging for the Max and Ruby video - even YS, who says those names with such enunciation).

As I bent down to put on YS's coat, I had to coax him into letting go of sleepy bear in order to get his arms in the sleeves. From the moment we got in the car, it seemed like mayhem descended. YS didn't want to listen to the Cam Jensen book, while MS was adamant that it stay on. As we pulled into the parking lot, I noticed a mom who had recently walked the trail with us at the park. MS seemed eager to greet her son, so I hurried to get them out.

I think he was really excited to be with a "friend." Can I blame him? His already loud voice went up about 15 decibels, despite constant shushing. He ran right out of his shoes on his way to the junior department. He wanted to show Tyler how fast he could run. He headed with Tyler to the Halloween videos (surprise, surprise) and I went off to find Max and Ruby.

It seemed like every minute that went by, their behavior deteriorated another notch. MS was monopolizing the large stuffed puppy back in the board book area. YS was throwing Lego's. MS then walked up to a girl and grabbed a book out of her hand. I began to sense those furtive, yet-not-so-furtive looks from other mothers. You know those looks. The, "my, here come the rabble-rousers" looks!

After a time out on the couch for jerking an Elmo doll away from his brother, MS crossed the line by crawling right behind the head of another mother who was seated on the climbing shelves reading to her daughter. I had to whisk on coats, grab our two items (I don't think we've ever managed to leave a library with only two paltry items!), and head for the self-check-out machine. Thankfully, MS loves to check out and didn't cause any further furtive (or not) looks.

We arrived home, ate lunch and prepared for afternoon quiet time. Thus began our daily activity of searching for sleepy bear so YS can nap. The last thing I remembered was wrenching it from his hands to put on the coat. I couldn't remember if we had it at the library or not. I couldn't remember if YS had it when I took him out of the car seat. I do know we didn't take it home from the library, because I distinctly remembered every moment of the whisking on the coats, hanging heads in shame exit.

After thoroughly scouring the entire house, I had to put YS down without sleepy bear. He whimpered, but did fall asleep. MS was supposed to be having quiet reading time in his room. He asked if he could come out to help me look for sleepy bear. I looked and looked. I checked every crazy place the thing has ever shown up before (mixed in the costume boxes, inside the cardboard play house, in my husband's closet, under our bed, etc. ad nauseam). I checked the van and the garage.

(Warning: Lengthy side-note!) I have always loved reading Dawn's blog and hearing of the many food discoveries that go on at her house. Up until this point, I have chuckled over these tales. Then, I looked under the curio cabinet in the spare bedroom (which leads to the garage - this is where coats are usually put on). I noticed this box and pulled it out. What?!

I remembered buying it last week. I don't remember putting it away. Lovely, what was inside, eh? Good thing I found that. But, where, oh where, was sleepy bear?

I began to really feel frantic. I called the library to see if anyone had turned it in. No such luck. I called my husband and my mother-in-law to ask them to pray for sleepy bear's safe return. MS happily talked with his grandmother.

When ES arrived home, I left him in charge of MS and sleeping YS and drove back to the library to see if it had been dropped in the parking lot. Still no bear. I began the search all over again, MS trailing behind me.

As I entered the spare bedroom, I decided to look behind the bed (I had already looked under it, but who knows). Next, I lifted the comforter and, there, stuffed between the two pillows, was sleepy bear. Suddenly I hear a quiet, "I thought you would never find it!"

I turned to face MS. "Are you saying that you put sleepy bear there?"

"Yeah. I didn't think you were gonna find it."

I burst out, "You are in your room, in quiet time, until dinner. In fact, probably AFTER dinner, too!"

Two and a half hours of my afternoon wasted. Fretful emotions roused. Unnecessary prayers invoked. MS's quiet time interrupted (ah, this was the goal all along). Sleepy bear FOUND. Now, I'm signing off and heading to bed. Maybe I'll even make it before one. Then again, I still have to straighten the upstairs, load the dishwasher, and brush my teeth. Darn it all, late again! It's no wonder I've lost my mind.