I went into Gwen's room to wake her up from her nap but she wasn't in her crib so I glanced at her twin sized bed but she wasn't there either. With my heart starting to thump in my chest, my eyes frantically darted around the room until I finally spotted her.
Believe it or not, this room was neat and tidy when she went down for her nap. Now it looks like it was ransacked and that only added to my anxiety when I couldn't immediately find her.
Lately, I've had a major (irrational) fear of someone sneaking into my house and taking either or both of my kids. Part of it is probably just a natural byproduct of motherhood and the rest of it is probably because I flip channels at night and invariably end up on Nancy Grace's disgraceful TV program where she exploits every parent's most horrible fear by rehashing every gruesome detail of cases involving missing or murdered children. What the hell is wrong with that woman? And why can't I change the channel more quickly?
Anyway, maybe the question I should really be pondering is why my daughter, who is nearly 5 years old, is still sleeping her her toddler bed? I ask her this each night and she stretches her legs out straight while announcing "Look, Mommy. I still fit!" Yeah, with only about 3 inches to spare, Kiddo!
When she turns five (at the end of this month), this crib might just disappear. When that day finally comes, I'm sure both of us will be wiping away some tears.