How to Scare The Living Bejesus Out of Me

So lately I've been feeling like I have a lot of junk in the trunk since I haven't quite lost all of my baby weight yet, and would like to lose another 10-15 pounds. Some exercise and decreasing my portions is about my only game plan at this point. So in the spirit of this newfound attention to my expanding waistline, I decided to go for a brisk run/walk after work on Wednesday. In the attempt to do some after-work bonding, I asked my son, CJ if he wanted to join me by riding his bike while I exercised. Even though he still has the double vision in his eyes from the surgery, he still seems able to coordinate himself to get around, and was ecstatic when Dave and I let him ride his bike again. So needless to say, he gleefully agreed, and couldn't get his shoes on fast enough and we both ran out of the door into the crisp, early evening air.

It's unfortunate that we don't have warning signals for certain days so that we just don't get out of bed. It would save us so much trouble. The misadventure that was supopsed to be my "workout", quickly became a complete and utter disaster. First, it started with CJ getting on his helmet. The helmet straps were too tight. I attempted to loosen them, but apparantly not loose enough, because when the poor kid went to click the buckle under his chin, it wasn't pulled out enough, and - WARNING: EXPLICIT NERVE SHATTERING INFORMATION THAT MIGHT NOT BE SUITABLE FOR THE WEAK AT HEART - some of his skin got stuck inside the buckle! Then the most earth-shattering scream came out of this little kid's mouth that I immediately sent myself into panic mode and couldn't get the damn buckle unfastened quick enough. What was probably a 5 second long incident, seemed like an eternity. We then ran back into the house, both crying at this point, to assess the damage and hug and kiss to bring all of our emotions together again. My husband was obliviously cooking dinner and watching the baby, so he didn't know what was the heck was going on with the 2 of us.

OK, so crisis averted, right? Wrong. Yes, it does get worse. So after we both calm down, we decide to continue our "workout" and trek over to the schoolyard that is located about a 1/4 mile from our house. They have a playground there and a big blacktop area with a circular track that I was going to use to count my laps to let me think I was maybe getting somewhere in my exercise. There happened to be some other kids there (for what reason I have no idea), being supervised by some disheveled looking teeangers who were more interested in conversing with themselves than watching the kids. Either way, we all went about our merry business, and CJ did laps around in his bike, and I did my ru/walk, feeling happy I was on the way to rapid weight loss.

Lost in my thought of reaching a size 8 again, I had turned my back on CJ for maybe a total of about 20 seconds as I rounded the curve on part of the track. As I rounded the track back toward his direction, I suddenly realized he was nowhere to be found. He was not on the track. He was not on the playground with the other kids. He was not out on the baseball field. He had literally vanished into thin air. And of course, panic sets in again. I started to run like hell to the front of the school, feeling somewhat sure I would find him riding his bike. He was of course going to be in major trouble for riding away from my sight, but either way, I just wanted to find him at this point. But to my surprise, I do not find him at the front of the school. I am now panting frantically because I am so out of shape, and then ACTUAL REAL PANIC sets in. I start having visions that he's been abducted right out beneath me and all these people here. I continue to run faster and faster around the school back to the playground and I am now yelling his name over and over again. One of the hooligans started to yell his name, too, until another one of them asks me, "Is he on a bike?" To which I replied in a pure, mother-mania tone, "YES!"

"He went that way."

And so I darted in "that" direction, running as fast as I could, still screaming his name, until I rounded the corner of the school and found him innocently lost in the blissful world of his new bike.

"CJ, you scared Mommy to death!" I said, as I ran up to him hugging him tightly between my tears until I probably scared him to death, since he promptly began to cry himself. He knew right away that he had done something wrong. And then I immediately switched the mood and said, "We're going home. We need to go over the safety rules again. You know better than to ride your bike to the front of the school without me."

He was hysterically crying at this point, and then I felt bad for giving him such mixed emotions. But I was totally overwhelmed by the feeling I had when I couldn't find him anywhere and then the panic became anger that he had done that to me. I told him that he was not in trouble, but that we needed to go over the safety rules again and talk to Daddy about what happened.

After calming down, he rode his bike back home a few paces in front of me, and by the time I returned home I was ready for a drink. So much for my exercise routine and some quality time with my son.