Operation Christmas Child

With temps still in the 90s every single day here in Florida, it's hard to think of Christmas. But this is a great time to start thinking about Operation Christmas Child! Operation Christmas Child is a program run by Samaritan's Purse. They collect shoe boxes that you fill with small toys, school supplies, socks, shirts, washcloths, etc. and they distribute them to needy children around the world so they know they're thought of at Christmastime. For more information, click here!

My kids and I have participated in this program for the past few years, but it seems like every year, we start a little bit later and are scrambling to mail the boxes in time. So, here's my reminder to you guys - start now!

School supplies are on clearance and they're great items to put in your shoeboxes. While shopping for school supplies and back-to-school clothes, kids tend to develop the "gimmes". Gimme this, gimme that, can I have this, can I have that? What a great way to remind them to think of others.

It's Kinda Like that Movie, Wildcats

The kids and I all started back to school yesterday. The little kids had a good day. They came home and reported that they liked their teachers and school. Brooklyn is giddy at the prospect of going to school every day. Ahhh, the innocence and eagerness of kindergartners. The three older kids were less than thrilled with their first day. The schools are big. The kids at their schools are different. They didn’t know where and how to get their books or IDs, or how to request a schedule change.

Austin and Savannah had to catch the bus at 6:15AM. It was still dark out. The street lights were on. That’s just wrong. Another thing that’s just wrong is that 95% of the kids down here wear jeans to school. It’s in the nineties! Jeans! Ninety degree weather, jeans, ninety degree weather, jeans. Back home, 95% of the kids would be wearing shorts and flip flops or sandals. Not here. It’s all jeans and new shoes. I think 99% of the kids had brand new, fancy, expensive shoes. Apparently, it’s all about the shoes down here. All day long, I had that Pumped Up Kicks song running through my head.

How did my first day go? Sigh. Remember that movie Wildcats with Goldie Hawn? Yeah, well I feel like she did her first day. Let me put it this way, I texted the principal last night and said, “Just so you know, I suck. I’m not qualified to do this. I don’t know what to do with the kids. I have an urge to hand out Ritalin to half my classes, my oldest 3 kids hate the schools here, it took me until 7:45 to finish filling out all the paperwork my kids brought home, I haven’t even started dinner, and I’m moving back to Chicago. Who cares about income or insurance.”

The principal, who is not only a friend, but obviously darn good at her job, gave me a pep talk and assured me that I have withitness. She went on to say that people could be taught how to teach and they could be taught the curriculum, but that you can’t teach withitness. You either have it or you don’t. When I finally figured out that she wasn’t making the same typo repeatedly, I decided that I loved that word – With-It-Ness. Some people are “with it” and some are not. I’m delighted that she believes I have withitness.

The thing is, the kids aren’t really bad. Some of them are going to be challenging, to be sure, but it wasn’t the kids that stressed me out. I think it was more the fact that I didn’t feel confident in what I was doing. Mine is not an instructional position. I’m not a teacher. Yet, I still have to teach these kids something. My job will primarily be helping them to get organized, stay on track, complete assignments on time, and support them. However, until they have homework assignments, I’m not sure what to do.

Yesterday, I pretty much just chatted with the kids and played get-to-know-you games. Today, we started reading The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens. We talked about what a paradigm is and how your thoughts lead to actions which lead to habits which often lead to self-fulfilling destinies. I showed them drawings from artist, Julian Beever, who creates amazing chalk drawings on sidewalks that, and when viewed from the right angle, they show hard-to-believe, 3D images. But when you view them from another angle, you see distorted two dimensional drawings. I told them a great story that illustrated how stepping back and shifting your paradigm can make you see things in a whole new light. I gave the kids ideas and asked them for examples from their own lives. We talked about the 7 habits and shared our own good and bad habits.

A couple classes responded well. Two classes of kids stared at me blankly, daring me to teach them anything, trying to prove that they are far too cool to care about school. And yet another class got excited and jumped out of their seats a thousand times. Of course, they also jumped out of their seats a thousand times yesterday when they saw a bird out the window, so take that as you will.

I have a new respect for educators.


The biggest adjustment for me is being at work all day. I’m not used to that. I have to admit that I hate being gone all day, then coming home and having to do everything that used to take me all day to do. I put the youngest three in after school care. They hate it. They hate staying after school for two and a half hours and can’t understand why I’m not home to get them right away. And I’m tired. Oh my gosh, I’m tired. I can’t survive on so little sleep. And on that note, I need to figure out what I’m going to do in class tomorrow and get more than four hours of sleep tonight if possible.

Things That Make You Go Hmmmm

I don’t know why, but I started looking through the pictures on my phone today. I have a couple nice cameras that I generally bring with me if I think there may be photo ops. But even if I haven’t brought a good camera along, I always have my phone with me and sometimes use it to shoot pictures of those unexpected moments that creep up. However, I rarely remember to transfer those pictures to my computer. Tonight, I did.

Heil Hitler?

Behold the Christmas clown! My grandma made this guy. She is awesome at knitting and crocheting. She's made some really gorgeous blankets and lace over the years. I have no clue what's up with this guy.

https://web.archive.org/web/20111011060753im_/http://blogs.babble.com/babble-voices/because-im-the-mom/files/hmmm/photo7.jpg

What a daring fashion statement! Polka dots, stripes, and crazy colors all at once!

This is the best design they could come up with? Awkward.

Caught red, er, um blue handed? And she managed to do this while buckled into her car seat!

Who knew that the arm pads could double as elf shoes?

I took this picture last year when we arrived at church and I realized Brooklyn had forgotten her pants and was wearing a pair of my shoes. What? I have six kids! Sometimes this kind of thing happens!

"Look, Mom, we made soup!" As much as I like the idea of not having to cook, I had to take a pass on this one.

Why did I take a picture of kids standing by a tree? Oh yeah, Clay is IN the tree. And like a good mom, instead of getting him down, I grabbed my camera.

"Really, Mom, the marker just slipped off the paper a little bit. It was an accident!"

Socks with sandals should be against the law, true, but why did I take this picture while on the plane?

Oh yeah! THAT'S why I was taking random pictures on the plane!

I could be wrong, but I think you may have grabbed the wrong shoes, Brooklyn.

I got nothin'.

What? You act like you've never seen a cow drink Dr. Pepper through her nose before.

The One in Which I Lose It

It was meet-the-teacher night this evening for all six of my kids. Six kids, three schools, all tonight. And it’s not like my kids have gone to these schools forever. If we were still back in Chicagoland, I’d be comfortable if we didn’t make it to every school. My kids know their way around the schools. I know the teachers. We’re all familiar with the rules, dress codes, and procedures for getting to and from school, etc. If we were back home, we’d walk around the school while stopping every few steps to talk to friends.

But here? Well, we don’t know anyone here. We don’t know the layout of the schools. The schools are comprised of multiple buildings and portable trailer-like units that seemingly span miles. There were no familiar, friendly faces in the crowd.  And I obviously felt the need to get to every school for every child.  All at the same time.

We started at the junior high. There wasn’t nearly enough parking for the number of people who came out to the school. We got there ten minutes early and still had to park in the grass, blocks away from the school. It was well in the 90s and by the time we walked to the building, I was sweating. The little kids were complaining that they were tired and hot. I had no idea where to find Jackson’s schedule. I made my way to the office, the kids trailing behind me, and found someone who was handing out papers. I grabbed a paper and tried to move out of the crowd in order to take a look at it, but there was no moving out of the crowd. I don’t like crowds to begin with, but having to look after six kids, figure out where I’m going, and sweating my butt off in the heat while in a mob of people? Well, that was making me go postal.

We found Jackson’s name on the paper and headed to his home room class, which is in a trailer, in order to get his schedule. In fact, most of his classes are in portables which seems to be a common thing down here in Florida, but is unheard of back home in Chicagoland. I guess it’s no big deal unless it’s raining, in which case he’ll get soaked going from class to class.  He didn’t get a locker. I don’t even think they have lockers at this school which is another foreign element for us. There were classes on his schedule I’ve never heard of.  When I registered Jackson, he filled out a paper with his top five elective selections. His first four choices were band. Band was nowhere to be found on his schedule. I spoke with someone in the guidance office who assured me he could change that next week. We’ll see. 

I have no idea what supplies he needs, where to get him a gym uniform, if he needs a lock for a gym locker, or where he can park his bike if he rides to school. By the time we left, my shirt was actually stuck to my back with sweat (my kids were so kind as to point that out to me with great volume), I was frustrated because things are just so different down here, I was tired of hearing my kids complain, and I was feeling bad that my kids have to start all over in this strange new environment.

We drove to the grade school and met the little kids’ teachers. The teachers all seemed really nice. Only Clay’s room is in a trailer. I started to relax a little, thinking that school wasn’t going to be all bad. Until I had to fill out the forms indicating which things I’d like to volunteer for and then it hit me. I can’t volunteer for anything anymore because I’m a working parent now. Not a stay-at-home, care for my kids, be involved parent. Not a work-from-home parent. But a go-to-work parent who is too busy during the day to care for her kids; who will no doubt be too busy shopping, paying bills, writing, cleaning, and cooking in the evening to spend much time with them. I hate that! I mean, you gotta do what you gotta do and right now, I need to work outside the house as well as from home. And I am looking forward to this job, don’t get me wrong. But I hate that I’m no longer available to be there for my kids during the day.

That hit me hard, but I didn’t have time to deal with my feelings because my kids were still whining that they were hot and bored. The teens were anxious to get to the high school and walked out to the car despite the fact that I still needed to find someone to ask about drop-off procedures. I didn’t know where to take my kids in the morning and it’s not like I can leisurely walk them to school and make sure they get to their classrooms. Nope, I have to drop them off as early as possible, then speed to my own school.

By the time we got to the high school, I was feeling pretty bad about everything. The high school (that looks more like a college campus) was crammed with people. Moving through the crowd, hot and sweaty, trying to keep track of all my kids, searching for someone, anyone who had a clue where schedules and maps were just pushed me over the edge. I started crying. I’m not going to be around to help my kids. The schools here are huge. There weren’t any helpful folks in the crowd directing people, handing out maps, or answering questions. No bus schedule was included with the class schedules. How are my kids supposed to know when and where to catch a bus come Monday? Where and when do they get IDs? How about supply lists? Gym uniforms? Lockers? Do they even have lockers? Is there a dress code?  What is it?  What kind of crappy school doesn’t hand out information to parents upon registering? What kind of subpar educational system doesn’t send information about new student orientations?

My mind whirled crazily out of control. I came to the conclusion that I was a horrible parent for moving here. Bottom line – I’d ruined my kids’ lives. It didn’t matter that I’d made the right decision and did everything I could possibly do to ensure our future. It didn’t matter that I’d moved across the country away from everything and everyone I knew just so I could have a job with a steady paycheck and insurance. It didn’t matter that I’d moved into a more affordable house. No, my brain just shut that out and all I could think of was how my kids were having to start all over in these strange schools and it was all my fault.

I bawled, unable to get a grip on my emotions, then I got mad at myself for losing it which made me cry more.  To top it off, it was Jackson’s birthday today. He’s thirteen. There was no party, no relatives, no special dinner since we were running to schools all evening, and his day ended with his mom losing her mind. I don’t lose it. I DON’T LOSE IT. I handle everything with a sense of humor. I find the good and the funny in everything. I smile through adversity and keep going. I’m strong for my kids. Always. And I absolutely detest it when I break down. I don’t care if it’s human or healthy or okay. I hate it. And I hate that instead of encouraging my kids with a positive attitude, I made everything worse by freaking out.

Always the Comedian

The parenting “experts” recommend parents spend one-on-one time with each of their children every day. It’s a great idea, in theory, but here in the real world, that’s nothing more than an unattainable goal designed to make parents feel like failures. As a single mom to six kiddos, I’m happy if I can find one-on-one time with one or two kids a year!

Today, I took Lexi to get new glasses. She lost hers sometime between the last day of school and the time we moved to Florida because, for some odd reason, she can’t manage to keep a pair for more than a couple months. I kept thinking her glasses would surface eventually, but I’ve since given up all hope of ever finding them.

So, Lexi and I took a little trip into town to pick out new frames. We talked on the way there. We sang along with the radio on the drive home. While at the store, Lex answered the clerk’s questions, smiled, and looked generally cute. It was nice. It helped me recover from the trauma of spending one-on-one time with Austin the day before.

Two days ago, I took Austin to the DMV so he could get his permit. The delightful DMV employee who, ah, “helped” us, was more interested in filing her nails than anything. She actually had the nerve to sit there, giving herself a manicure while we stood, staring at her, open-mouthed.

“Ahem, are we done here? Doesn’t he need to take the vision test?” I inquired.

“Ms. EmployeeOfTheYear gave us a disinterested glance. And WENT BACK TO CLIPPING HER NAILS!

We finally finished there (I have TWO drivers now!Eek!) and went on to do some more errands. I stopped at Sears to get a garage door opener clicky remote thingy because the previous homeowners didn’t leave me one. As the cashier rang up my purchase, he asked, “Would you like a small bag for this?”

I whispered, in smart-aleck fashion, to Austin, “No, I want a very large bag for it.”

Austin was supposed to chuckle at my terribly clever hilarity and that’s it. But instead, he asked the cashier, “Yes, and please double-bag it so the weight doesn’t break the bag. (Keep in mind, the only thing we bought was the little remote garage door opener that clips onto the visor in your car.)

Then Austin said, “Do you have a flatbed we can use to get this out to the car?”

The cashier’s look was priceless.

Austin continued, completely deadpan, “How ’bout we pull the car around and someone can bring it out and load it for us?”


Yep. That’s my son.  I can’t wait until the next time I get to spend one-on-one time with him.

Sun, Surf, and a Renewed Spirit

The kids and I went to the beach today for a last hurrah before school starts. I love the ocean so much and I’m finding it surreal that I now live close enough to the beach to go whenever I’d like. I love the smell of the air. I love the sound of the surf. I love the soothing feel of floating on the waves. I love watching the seagulls and pelicans glide over the water, then dive in to scoop up fish. I love the warmth of the sun on my skin. I love the feel of the sand squishing between my toes. I love swimming in the cool, refreshing water. And I love to watch the power and energy of the waves crashing again and again. Bliss.

If I’d had any second thoughts about moving to Florida, they were banished today. Year-round, whenever I feel like it, I can drive one hour and be at the beach. What better reason to live here than that? I find the ocean so breathtaking. I sit in my beach chair, the water lapping at my feet while staring out at the depths, taking in the majesty of it all. It’s such a wonderful way to empty my mind and reflect.  I have a bad habit of getting caught up in all the demands on me. I forget myself and what’s really important when I start to feel overwhelmed with all my self-inflicted pressures. It’s so freeing to take some time and relax. When I clear my mind and simply listen, I get a sense of calm; a renewed spirit. It’s good.

That is, until my kids drag me out of my reverie and into the water so they can jump on me, splash me, pretend to be a cat and lick me, throw seaweed at me, and decorate my face with a hundred seashells while I lie on a raft. But even that is good too.

Where’s your place favorite place? Where do you go to unwind? Do you have a place that makes you feel alive, closer to God, recharged and renewed?

School Rules

I went into the school this week to check out my classroom. It’s a nice sized room and I’m so excited to decorate it and make it inviting for the kids who will be studying in there. I got a tour of the school and saw some amazing rooms that teachers had painted, stenciled, and decorated with plants, curtains, rugs, and other personal touches. I don’t have such lofty aspirations, but I did put fresh paper on my bulletin board and a couple posters on the walls. But the biggest change I made was in taking down the rules. Whatever teacher was in the room last year had TWENTY posters of rules on the walls. For the most part, all those rules could be summed up with Be Responsible and Be Respectful. I may have never worked in a school, but I know kids and I know that if you blabber on with rule after rule, eventually they’re going to tune out. And some of these rules . . . whew! They’re doozies! Check out a few of my favorites… 

RULE 2 I'm not sure how things are today, but saying, "Hi, Mrs. Anderson! Good afternoon, Mr. Smith! Hello, Miss Jones!" while walking through the hallways would've given you instant nerd status back in my day. I do like the random capitalization and missing punctuation, however. 

RULE 3 Heaven help the kid with ADHD in this class. 

RULE 4 Maybe this is a southern thing, but I think "yes" and "no" is sufficient. Using "ma'am" and "sir" is almost an insult where I'm from. 

RULE 6 Yes, this rule makes sense, but these are junior high aged kids we're talking about here. Why take up precious wall space with a poster about covering your mouth? If they don't know to cover their mouth when they sneeze by age 12, I'm not sure they'll ever learn.

  RULE 7 ...or even more worrisome is the incorrect use of the word "then" by a teacher.

  RULE 9 So, if the teacher hands out an assignment and the student doesn't thank her within 3 seconds, do you think she takes it back? 

RULE 13 I don't have a clue what this means, but in junior high, shouldn't kids be able to understand  the concept of "talk quietly"? 

RULE 15 Here's my new rule to replace this one - Less is More. Stop talking already!

  RULE 16 Can you imagine explaining this one to the principal? "Why were you sent here, Johnny?" "My teacher said I didn't clap loudly enough." 

RULE 17 Ummm, what's with the random hearts? Is this a class rule or a note written to someone's boyfriend?

RULE 20 My replacement rule is this - Learn When it's Appropriate to Use "Lie" and "Lay". They are not interchangeable and they have vastly different meanings. 


 I’m replacing those gems with posters of famous, successful people who struggled in school and/or were told they were failures, but persevered and succeeded despite their rocky starts.

Sunday Sound Out

From Orlando, where it's apparently legal to turn right from the left lane, it's your host, the woman who may have just made the People of Walmart site, Dawn Damalas Meehan! And now, here are the answers to this week's questions.

Whilst visiting the US I have always been confused by the number of churches you have there, and what the differences are.
Join the club. I don't think most Americans know the difference between all the different denominations.
In the UK I belong to the Church of England, C of E, as its known and every town/village has a parish church belong to the C of E.
But in Florida they seemed to have names I just didnt recognise or understand - apart from the Catholic church of course!
I'm not familiar with the churches in England, but we have several different denominations here. Aside from Catholic and Orthodox churches, there are a bunch of protestant religions like Baptists, Methodists, Lutherans, Presbyterians, etc.
And we have Priests in the UK whereas you have Pastors? Our priests are ordained and wear a 'dog-collar' whereas your pastors always seem to be in a shirt and tie.
I think the Catholics have priests whereas most protestant religions have pastors. I'm no expert on this though.
Just think how confusing it is for us Brits when visiting trying to find a church that feels comfortable! :) And I was also wondering that I thought your family was from Greece (or do I have this wrong) and is there such a thing as Greek orthodox in the US?
There are Greek Orthodox churches in the U.S. and my dad is Greek, but that's not my religion.

But did the new church have donuts?!?
Ha! They didn't have donuts, but they always seem to have coffee cake, brownies, cookies, etc., which, as everyone knows, is the mark of a good church.

Hi Dawn: Where did you find that cute photo of the ARMADILLO just napping by the side of the road?
I take all the pics on my blog. We saw this guy a block from our house and pulled over so we could lean out the window and snap a pic and the little guy stopped walking and just kinda plopped down. Do armadillos play dead like opossums?

I was wondering, what are your feelings on Gothic teenagers? I'm 16, and I'm a goth, but I like normal things as well (like I've been reading your blog for about a year now), and my mum supports me 100%. She often times gets attacked for my decisions, such as, "What mother would let their child dress like that?" If Savannah or Lexington, or any of your kids really, decided to become "goth" would you support them, or try to disuade them?
Honestly, I would probably try to dissuade them, but I wouldn't force them to look any particular way. I'm all for letting teens express themselves. What's inside is far more important than hair, make-up, or clothing. "What kind of mother would let their child dress like that?" The kind of mother who knows that appearances aren't all that.

I saw you mentioned toddlers; however my son is 6 years old and we are having some serious bed wetting issues. I NEED HELP.Does Goodnights have an age cut off?
This is a topic I'm passionate about! Goodnites are designed specifically for older kids! They go up to 125 pounds and they look and feel much more like underwear than training pants. BTW, it's not at all uncommon for 6 year olds to wet the bed. There's a wealth of information on the Goodnites.com site. You can even ask the experts your bedwetting questions and get them answered there.

If anyone knows where the cable is so I can plug in my fax/answering machine, let me know. I haven't seen it since moving. Everything is unpacked. I can't find it. It's driving me to the brink of insanity. Thank you and have a great week!

What Goes Around, Comes Around

I stopped at Walmart today. It was on my way home from school and I needed toilet paper and cleaning supplies, so I decided, instead of driving out of the way to my beloved Target, to stop at Wallyworld. As I walked in, a Walmart employee started to say, “Welcome” to me, but coughed instead. Actually, coughed isn’t quite the word for it. It was kind of like a, “Welcome to Walcough cough hack hack aaaaaggghhhh hauck cough.” And then her lung fell out at my feet. Without missing a beat (because I am so much cooler than your average Walmart shopper), I carefully maneuvered my cart around her lung and went about my shopping while Typhoid Mary spread her disease.

As I pushed my cart down the aisles, I noted the degenerate interesting folks shopping there. There was the young boy wearing socks and sandals which should be a crime in and of itself, but these were no ordinary socks, no ma’am. These were pink socks. And they weren’t just ordinary pink socks, no sir. One had pink butterflies on it and the other one had pink and red hearts. Yeah.

I noticed a couple teens wearing knit ski caps. I know this is fashionable in teen world, but when the temperature is in the 90s every stinkin’ day, why on earth would any sane person put a knit cap on their head??? Why?!

I saw an old man who looked like Uncle Jesse from The Dukes of Hazzard. I thought about asking him how it was working with John Schneider and Tom Wopat, but after seeing his toothless grin, reconsidered and simply smiled back instead.

And then I saw the most priceless outfit of all. A woman, easily in her 70s wore her long gray hair, braided and twisted into a lovely grandmotherly-looking bun. She wore sensible, orthopedic shoes. And she wore short-shorts with a skimpy halter top, leaving her abdomen, which, if she wasn’t in her 70s, I would swear was nine months pregnant, bare. Attractive. I pulled out my phone, clicked the camera icon and nonchalantly aimed it at her, ready to click a picture. She smiled and said, “Hah” so I wimped out, lowered my phone and smiled back.

After paying for my purchases, I walked out to my car, loaded the bags into the back, and sat down in the driver’s seat. As I pulled my seat belt across my lap, I realized my shorts were unzipped. Yep, I just walked around Walmart making fun of people and the whole time my fly was down. 

Now that’s class.

The moral of the story is: Make sure your pants are zipped before you make fun of the characters at Walmart or you might find them taking pictures of you even as you snap pictures of them.

The One with the Foreign Language

As most of you know, my kids and I recently moved from Chicagoland to Central Florida. Although we like it here, we’re learning that things are very different down south. One of the things we’ve learned is that people are extra-friendly down here. And they speak a different language too!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Where's 7?

First, let me begin by asking my friend, Doreen, not to read this. Doreen, close this window and go play on Facebook instead. Really, you’ll thank me for it later.

Okay then. Lexi’s friend, Ally (and my friend, Doreen’s, daughter) has been staying with us this week. The girls were really missing each other so Doreen put Ally on a plane to come visit for a while.  When Ally and Lexi first saw each other at the airport, they ran to one another and grabbed each other in an airport hug like something out of the movies. I cried.

Anyway, we’ve been doing fun things with Ally, showing her some of the cool things about Florida while, at the same time, taking advantage of the last couple weeks before school starts to cram in a few more memories. We’ve gone to the pool, to Clearwater Beach, and last night, after dinner, we drove to Downtown Disney to walk around, window shop, and just hang out for a while. It started raining on our way there, so we sat in the car for a bit, waiting it out. After twenty minutes or so, the rain seemed to have passed so we took our chances and headed out.

No sooner had we left the comfort of my van, than it started raining again. We ducked into a store and looked around until the rain let up a bit, then we, once again, ventured out. We walked along, looking in shops here and there as it alternately drizzled and poured. We were walking toward the end of the strip when I realized we’d gotten to Pleasure Island (which is all bars), so I prepared to turn around and walk back. That’s when Jackson said, “Where’s Clayton?”

Now, I do the headcount thing regularly when we’re out. It’s part of my subconscious. It’s an instinct thing. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. So I know Clay had just been with us. But now? Now he was missing. I kicked myself because I hadn’t given the kids my “If you get lost or separated from us” speech. Why hadn’t I reminded him to stay put if he got lost?

My kids insisted they’d seen him running ahead, so we continued to move forward, calling his name, searching the crowd for his face. By this time, it was pouring rain, so as we ran, we glanced in shops, thinking he might have ducked into one to escape the rain. We couldn’t find him. I told the other kids to stay there and watch for him while Austin and I backtracked, frantically calling out Clay’s name while squinting through the deluge of rain, hoping to get a glimpse of his red shirt. Nothing.

Austin and I headed back to the other kids. By this time, it looked like we’d all jumped into a pool. Every inch of our clothing was soaked, our hair was dripping, our shoes were squishing through the deep puddles of standing water and still the rain fell in sheets, making it near impossible to see.

I gathered everyone and headed toward a huge Disney store, thinking that someone there should be able to help, call security, call Clayton over a PA system, or something. Then I saw a flash of red. A little kid wearing a red shirt was running several yards in front of us. I screamed, “Clayton!” Was that him? It totally looked like him. I think it might have been him. Austin and Jackson took off running, trying to catch up with the flash of red that we thought might have been Clay. Jackson slipped on the wet pavement and landed hard on his lower back. They lost site of the kid in red. I yelled out to everyone, “Stay here together! I’m going to get security,” then I slipped into the crowd of people in the Disney store.

At this point, the panic started to set in. Or maybe it wasn’t panic exactly. I didn’t think anyone had taken off with Clay. I didn’t think he’d be lost forever. I was sure we’d find him soon, but the thought of my little boy, wandering around, lost and scared, sent a wave of gut-wrenching emotion through me. I can’t even name the feeling. Any parent who has ever experienced that moment when you can’t locate your kid knows the feeling. And any parent who has ever felt that will tell you that they never want to experience it again.

I gave my description of Clay to a cast member who called security. She told me to wait there so security could contact me. I told the woman I needed to grab up my other kids and I’d be right back. If any of you have been to Downtown Disney, you know this World of Disney store is enormous! I mean, it’s HUGE! It’s like 10 stores all connected together. It took me a while to navigate through the crowds of people and find my way back out. When I reached the doors, my kids all shouted, “We found him! He and Austin went in the store to find you!”

Ugh, knowing the size of that store, it could be days before I saw them again. I headed back into the store to look for Austin and Clay, and to tell employees they could call off the manhunt. After wandering around, and not seeing the boys anywhere, I wound my way through the wall-to-wall people, back toward the door where I saw all six of my kids plus Ally. Whew!

I grabbed Clay and hugged him. I choked back my tears until I saw his red eyes. The thought of him lost, scared, and crying made me lose it.

“Where did you find him?” I asked.

“By the car! He was just standing there by our car!”


“How did you think to look by our car? How on earth did he find our car? Oh my gosh! I can’t believe he walked out to the car!” Then, to Clay, “How did you find our car? Why did you go to the car? Did you think we were going to leave without you?” I asked, incredulously. I mean, look at this map? Do you see all the parking lots?!

DD Map 300x136 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Wheres 7?
Image: WDWInfo.com

Jackson piped up and said that he was the one who thought maybe Clay had headed to the car. I have to admit, I don’t think that would’ve crossed my mind. I wouldn’t have thought that Clay would think to head to the parking lot and even if he’d had that plan, I didn’t think he’d be able to retrace our steps and find the parking lot.

After a brief “If you ever get lost, just stop right where you are and we’ll find you” speech, we decided to get the heck out of there as it was still raining cats and dogs. As we walked toward the parking lot, we realize we were the only ones out in the rain. People stood in the doorways and under the awnings of the shops and watched us as if we were some sort of parade of idiots. We just laughed. We were so relieved to have found Clay that now we just laughed and laughed. We splashed through the puddles a la Gene Kelly, we danced around, we looked at each other’s hair plastered to our faces and our dripping clothes, and we just laughed. Savannah had mascara dripping down her nose. My sunglasses were perched crazily on my head, half sliding down my wet hair. People must have thought we were insane. But we didn’t care.  We were all together.

020 300x200 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Wheres 7?

021 300x200 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Wheres 7?


023 200x300 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Wheres 7?

Goodnites Twitter Party!

I have a few different writing jobs, but one of my very favorites is writing articles for Goodnites.com. I just love helping parents who have questions about bedwetting! Tomorrow night I'll be participating in a Twitter party about parenting in the post-toddler years, hosted by Goodnites. Please join me! We'll be chatting, answering questions, trading parenting ideas, and giving away some prize packs full of awesome goodies including $100 AmEx gift cards! Who couldn't use that, right?

WHEN: Tuesday, August 2 from 9-11PM (ET)
DETAILS ON MOM IT FORWARD: CLICK HERE

Be there or be square left out and sad and lonely while we all have fun chatting and winning cool stuff. So be there!