The Ribs On the Sidewalk Incident - -Part 2

   We left our story with me realizing I couldn't find DS.....

  I circled and circled the small playground, and started to panic as I couldn't find him anywhere.  His SOP on playground equipment is usually to find one thing he really likes to do, like a slide, and do it over and over and over again.  But he wasn't doing the slide. He was gone.  Just. Gone.  I panicked.  C started looking.  I desperately tried to call J but couldn't get through.

   The one and possibly only non-brainless thing I had done that evening was put DS's name and my phone number on a sticker on her shirt.  His sib had one, too.  I knew, if he was found, that someone could try to call me.  Except phones weren't working because there was just so much traffic. J finally returned and began looking with us. My baby was missing and I have never felt so afraid in my entire life.  

    When I am panicked, or even anxious, one thing that frequently happens is that I cannot see well. I mean, I do see things, but I can almost never find the thing I am looking for when I am upset or worried or in a hurry. Once I'm calm, the thing I need usually surfaces right where I'd been looking.  I find this terribly annoying. One learning theorist has a book out about lateral dominance and how it can affect our ability to take in and process information.  I love her work and what she says about how we function under stress fits me to a T.  

     So, I am at Comfest, surrounded by thousands of people and more stressed than I have ever been and I am trying to look for my child. Then my phone rang. It was a number I didn't know.  I answered, shouting "DID YOU FIND HIM?  DO YOU HAVE MY CHILD?" only to hear a woman's voice say "It's going right to voicemail."  But I knew, then, that he was safe.  A kind stranger had found him, was holding him, and trying to reach me.  I calmed down immediately, turned around, and saw him.  In a woman's arms, crying.  He was, maybe, 10 feet from the playground area-- just across a sidewalk.

     Relief.  Ohthankyoujesusthereismybabysweetbabychild.  I had him in my arms before the woman who had been holding him was able to finish asking if he was mine.  I have never, once, made fun of people who have their children on little backpack-leashes, but I have been near people who scoff and insult those parents. In the future, should anyone make such a comment around me, I will slap them.

     We rounded up DS and J and C and we were all hungry, and hot and DS was still hiccuping and anybody sane would have said: "Let's get the hell out of here and find someplace with A/C and food," but we didn't. J had found the right stage so we plowed on towards it and got there 20+ minutes early (see, I told you I'd planned for time to stop and eat. Maybe not time for playing on the playground and losing my kid, but you can't plan for everything.)

    The kids were close to ravenous, even though I'd brought granola bars and drinks for them. J, who was hungry himself, and none to happy about it, decided to get them pizza. DS will eat nearly anything.  Older child is much, much pickier, but will usually eat pizza. J returned nearly half an hour later, pizza in hand. We were sitting, watching the show.  It was pretty good.  I think C enjoyed seeing lots of womenflesh in sparkly outfits shimmying around. I did too, but probably for different reasons. The kids were intrigued for a little while, but were starting to fidget. DS was briefly entranced by another audience member -- a nearly nude woman in full black and white body paint.  We got to watch another 20 minutes of the show while the kids ate, but when that was done, so were they.

  ....final part tomorrow, I promise.