Breathing a sigh of relief

I need to slow my breathing and get my heart to stop racing. Late afternoon, at work, I received a frantic phone call from the mom of JR's best friend. Z, who transferred to the local public school this year, did not come home from school. Usually, he walks home with his older brother (5th grade) but the older brother decided to stay for Homework Club. Since they live a mere 4 blocks from school, Z is allowed to walk home and has a key for his front door. Z's mom is home within 20-30 minutes of the boys' arrival home. This has worked well since September.

When she called me, the police had already been summoned and the parents were working their network of friends. I knew he couldn't be with JR because JR is at his school today until 6 (Drama Club and tutoring). She had called JR's babysitter, because she does sometimes do afternoon playdates with the 2 boys (but never without arranging it with the parents in advance). One of the problems is that because this is a new school for Z, the mom does not have the same contacts she had at our old school. It also doubled the number of possible places that Z could be, since he has friends from both schools.

So I started calling the folks I know whose kids go to the public school with Z (there's lots of overlap in our social networks because of sports and church and preschool). My second phone call led to a lead. The mom had seen Z and another public school 3rd grader in the drug store across the street from school. This other kid is unsupervised quite a bit, so my friend wasn't surprised to see him, but did think it unusual to see Z with him. She also knew that this other kid often goes to a local playground after school. So I called the lead into Z's mom, who told the police, who immediately sent an officer to the playground - and there was Z!

I was terrified and ultimately relieved for Z's parents.

It's odd. We live in the middle of a large city, but our own little neighborhood seems so tight and safe that we must project that feeling of security to our kids - so that it never occurs to them that just leaving school and not letting a responsible adult know where they are going and what they are doing.

You can bet I had a long talk with JR tonight.

I'm really glad Z is okay. His mom and I have already started brainstorming other supervised after school options for the days when his big brother has homework club. I am thankful for the prompt, caring response of our big city police officers. I am thankful for the seriousness with which Z's school also addressed the situation (the vice principal returned to school and started calling 3rd grade families). But I'm also very sad for Z's afternoon companion - because no one was looking for him, no one was worried about him. I know that to the extent it is within our power, we will always keep JR and Z safe. But who is watching out for the other little boy?

Keeping the Mommy Guilt Monster from Rearing Its Ugly Head

The Mommy Guilt Monster usually resides deep, deep in my psychic closet. I know it's always there - I don't think I know a mom who doesn't have the monster hiding somewhere. For me, the monster started to grow once I went back to work full-time and it's been getting bigger and louder ever since June when I got my new job. I keep a lid on it though, because this is the job for which I've waited years. I tell myself that I'm teaching my son a great lesson about who women can be in the world. I tell myself that the silver lining to the long commute that came with the job is that JR's dad, who was always SuperDad, has gotten the chance to play whole new roles in the family - the morning organizer, the chef. I tell myself that I'm there for the important things - dinner, piano practice, story reading, bedtime. Of course, though, it's one of the rare nights where I'm not home (having stayed to work late), that we get the call from JR's teacher who wants to have the serious chat about school and reading and all those things that I should be right on top of - if I were a better mom.

JR's dad took the call - and then I called the teacher, too. So we're all on top of the situation. We're all working together.

Now I just have to convince Mommy Guilt Monster to get back into the closet.