That parenting moment

My friend Punk Rock Papa wrote a blog reflecting back on an important parenting moment, a rite that I think every parent goes through, at least once. That moment where you realize your child's life was in danger, that moment that eventually, because nothing bad happened, you can look back at and have a chuckle about. In that moment, though, your heart is in your throat and you can't hear over the sound of panic in your ears, pretty sure it's a heartbeat but it sounds like panic.

We've had one of those moments, well, two if you count the time I got a call about the neighbor's child. One balmy January afternoon (it was a crazy warm winter that year), I got a phone call from Pricklypants.

Him: Guess who was just here.
Me: Um, I don't know, how about you just tell me.
Him: Sheriff's office.
Me, panicking: Why? Are the boys ok? Are you ok? What's going on?
Him: Gamble got out and the UPS guy found him wandering around in nothing but a diaper.
Me: And how the (curseword) did that happen?

By this time I've got the attention of, oh, everyone in the newspaper office. Oops.

Turns out, Pricklypants had put the boys down for a nap, and was confident they were sleeping and all was well, so he was jamming out and folding laundry in the bedroom. He checked on them, they were still sleeping, so he went back to the bedroom to catch a nap himself.

Apparently while he was napping, the twins quietly woke up and were exploring, doing the things they normally do - jumping on the couch, wrestling, chewing on stuff, etc (they'd just turned 2). Well, we'd been having some issues with the front door latching, and it was a particularly windy day - the porch is basically a wind tunnel, and the front door popped open. Instead of closing it like they normally would, the twins decided to go exploring.

Gage (back) and Gamble (front) were rambunctious destroyers-of-rooms, explorers of the outside world, and chewers of toys. I can't be sure this was taken at the same time as "the incident" but it was probably close.

Later, I spoke with the officer who responded, who told me that he found Gage on the porch when he got here. Pricklypants didn't bother to mention that part.

But that was the moment I lost the desire to continue working outside of the home. My anxiety flared, and I began to work from home as often as I could get away with. That, among a long list of other items, eventually led to me quitting my job and becoming, well, a mimja (mommy ninja), or the president and CEO of the household...because stay-at-home mom doesn't really cover it.

I can look back now and not feel that same panic, maybe even have a chuckle, but at the time it was the scariest thing to ever happen to me. As many times a day as I shake my fist at the little boogers, ruing the day, I can't imagine a life without them, in all their crazy glory. There are many things I can imagine not having in my life, but my boys are not one of them. Even if I have no idea what our future is going to look like, I know it will be our future, intricately linked together by bonds that no one else can share with my boys.

So even when they do daring things that make me want to lock them in a padded room and only take them out delicately wrapped in bubbles and fluff, I love them. They don't see the dangers, and I've often made the mistake of not seeing dangers, myself, but these two precious boys, I want to keep them safe, I want to make sure nothing bad ever happens to them.

I know that's unrealistic, but that parenting moment, the one we all have, paired with my anxiety and their autism - that lack of a sense of danger, exquisite curiosity and their little engineer minds - that has made me overly overprotective. I am a helicopter mom out of necessity, from experience, not because I don't trust my 4-year-old autistic boys, but because I don't trust the rest of the world to do my job, to keep them safe.