Naaaaaaaaaaate?!

I realized recently that I spend about 30% of my day looking for our youngest child (and the other 70% thanking God that I found him). Most frequented question in this house: "Have you seen the baby?"

I honestly couldn't find him for about 5 seconds, which is a tremendously dangerous amount of time in "baby years". Some mothers use labor and delivery stories to induce guilt in their children. I will use well-documented data with photographic evidence of the worry these children cause. 

Nathan has a knack for getting into all sorts of precarious positions. See that dump truck in the middle of the floor? He pushes it up next to the stairs for some extra altitude while trying to scale the baby gate. All the babyproofing feats we have acheived over the past 5 years...mere speed bumps for this child.

It is not unusual to find Nathan hiding in a bookcase, behind a couch, under a table, on top of the ceiling fan or in his booster seat at the table...eating! "Who can eat at a time like this?!? I am missing the baby! Oh! There you are!"

 Ok, so most of the time my fear is self-induced by my post-partum amnesia. And yes, "post-partum amnesia" is a real diagnosis that I can use as an excuse until my youngest is in college.

Stories of lost children in my home growing up are legendary. Some are scary. Most are benign. My personal favorite is when my mother "misplaced" one of her babies. 

Mom, with true panic in her voice: "Where is Stephen?"

Me: "You are nursing him."

Mom, chuckling nervously: "Just making sure you knew."

I wish I could say that history does not repeat itself. I wish I could say that this conversation never happened in my home. But it has. Several times. Poor Sarah. She knows I am losing it. She should just be greatful that I am not losing her too.