Adventures in Motherhood

This morning, i went with my good friend Megan to the rec center to work out. We had a great class, picked up the kiddos, and headed out into the rainy day. So far, so good. Well-until we got to the car. As I was putting a sleepy Pax into his car seat, he grabbed the keys and pushed one of the buttons on the door opener. Not thinking much of it, I took the keys from him and tossed them into the front seat, finished buckling him in, and closed the door. Slam! Oh no. I tried his door. Locked. I tried my door, the passenger door, any door...locked. Enter the freak out zone-I had just locked my keys in the car. And my one year old son. And my cell phone. What do I do?? I begin to search the car for the hide-a-key Adam and my dad made sure was on the car when we got it (do they know my too well?). I remember them talking about it, and making sure it stayed on after travel...I just didn't know WHERE THEY HAD PUT IT!! At this point, I'm lying on the ground (did I mention it's raining? and cold?) shoving my hand randomly up into any spot with the potential to house a hide-a-key...nothing. I peer at Pax- so far, so good. But I know if I leave the car he'll freak out. Still...what choice do I have? No phone. I have to get to a phone to call Adam and find out where the hide-a-key is. Thanking God it's raining and I don't have to worry about boiling my son in a hot car, I run across the parking lot, hoping Megan hasn't left yet...no such luck. How does someone with two small kiddos get in their car so fast?? Time for plan B... I sprint inside to use the rec center phone. By this point, I am full on freaking out--The last time I locked my keys in a Volvo, it took the AAA guy AN HOUR AND A HALF to break into it! Volvos are notoriously hard to break into...Swedish safety engineering and all that. And I just locked my son in one!! Aaaaaagh! All this and more is running in through my head as I frantically dial Adam's cell (just about the only number I actually know anymore, for the record...). No answer. Again. No answer. Again...by this point I'm screaming inside, banging the phone agaisnt the wall, screaming ANSWER YOUR PHONE!! but I flash a (probably pretty creepy) half smile at the people walking by, as they watch me madly dial. I'm nervous, can't stop moving, thinking maybe he fell asleep in the car!....Yeah right. This IS Pax we're talking about. I know he's freaking out, too...I keep dialing. NO ANSWER. Then I realize that Adam doesn't actually know it's me calling, this is a strange number, and he's doing sermon prep. Of course he's not answering. So I call the church office (bless the man who made that number so easy to rememeber!!) Our sweet front office/admin girl, Kelly, answers with a cheerful "It's a great day at the River Church. How may I serve you?" "I need Adam's extention" I burst out, probably sounding desperate and crazy and not even identifiying myself, but she's nice enough not to hang up on me and puts my through. Ring...ring....ring....ring....NO ANSWER. I leave an equally desperate and frantic message, along the lines of PICK UP YOUR FREAKING PHONE!!!! and go back to dialing the cell. No answer. Another message. More dialing. No Answer. My son has now been locked in the car for 5 hours (ok, 10 minutes), sobbing, screaming, alone. I hear someone say they need a maintenence man for a little project at the rec center. I briefly wonder if they've found my son, think he's been abandoned, and are going to call the cops on me...then continue to try the cell. No answer. In a last desperate move, I call the office again. When Kelly's soft voice answers, I identify myself and ask her to go tell Adam to ANSWER HIS PHONE because I have locked Pax in the car. I can hear her confused laugh as she agrees to go tell him. So I hang up and, once again, dial the cell. Finally, FINALLY, on the forth ring he picks up. "Hey," he says.
"Did you get my message?" I ask, so much adrenaline pumping through my body I could probably pick the car up and carry it home...except Pax would still be locked inside. "No," he responds-waaaaaaay to calmly. I explain my predicament, and he in turn explains where the hide a key is. I thank him, hang up with out saying goodbye, and dash out to the car. I stop long enough to peer in the window at Pax and see he is alive, then throw myself once more on the ground and search carefully for the little black box that will save us both. I peer up,up,up into the front undercarriage...thank you, Lord!!! The box. In two seconds, I have the car open. After putting the box back, I take my first good look at my sweet son--covered in tears and snot. Poor baby, he looks tramatized! I think, and kiss him. But (for now) all is well again. Adam calls as we drive away...."Are you in?" "Yes." "Whew...we would've been up a creek!" Really?? I hadn't realized this! "Are you heading home now?" (my sweet husband wants me home safe, where the mishaps I seem to regularly get into are fairly minimal) "No. I'm going to Joe's first." He laughs...he knows me all too well. There's something about chocolate and caffine that soothe the still-pumping adrenaline after an affair like that...don't ask me why. Cheesecake has the same effect.
I'm home now...Pax was overjoyed to get into the house and kept kicking his legs and laughing. Poor kid. Someday I'll be able to tell him about the rainy day when mom locked him in the car and then had to abandon him to get help...but for now, he's sleeping peacefully, and thankfully he won't remember any of this in a year. And in the meantime, please, please don't turn me into child services.