I've had several of these. I'm not going to describe each one, as I try to erase them from memory. But a really, really bad one happened yesterday.
So Braden is really scared of lawn mowers. Like PHOBIC. Which is weird, because he's actually obsessed with lawn mowers from a distance - in books, tv shows, lawns that are at least a quarter of a mile away. But if we're ever near one, it's major freak out mode. Major. I've learned this, and we've adapted. Not a big deal.
Yesterday, when we got home from picking up Braden from school, our lawn service was here mowing our lawn. So of course Braden starts panicking. I pulled into our driveway, trying to talk rationally to him - Braden, isn't that lawn mower cool? Yes, it's a little bit loud. But it doesn't hurt you. It won't touch you. No, I promise, it is not coming in the car.
I could see him getting more and more anxious, so I finally said, Honey, do you want me to carry you in the house? Would that make you feel better?
An adamant yes. Yes, it would.
So then I say, Okay, sweetie. Let me get Casey in the house, and then I'll come back out to get you.
Here's that moment in a movie where you stop in time, and think, well that was stupid. Why would I take Casey out first, and leave Braden strapped into the car, with the door open, with the menace lawn mower only a few feet away?
Yeah, I don't know either. But that's what I did.
I carried Casey in the house, and about 4 seconds later went back out to get Braden when I heard his screams OVER THE THOUSAND DECIBEL LAWN MOWER RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. I quickly realized that I had put him in his perfect storm - unable to move, alone, with lawn mower quickly approaching.
He was screaming, crying, and he had peed his pants.
MAJOR PARENTING FAIL.
I felt awful. AWFUL! I'm trying to think of other words to describe it, but I can't. Awful seems to encapsulate it perfectly.
I carried him in the house (imprinting his urine stained pants onto my shirt) and hugged his shaking body and kissed him and apologized and apologized and then apologized some more. I changed his clothes, and then we huddled on the couch and watched the lawn mower together from afar.
He calmed down quickly and got over it. Children do. But will I? In a little while. Just not yet.
I totally suck.