It's what we do.

Earlier in the week Mom and I took the 5 younger kids to pick up outfits for their Christmas concert and the holidays. I was talking to Mom about how frustrated I was with some project as we were pulling into a parking space. The kids were all yelling and my phone started ringing with work stuff. All I wanted to do was whine to my mom and we couldn't hear ourselves over the kids and my phone. Once we got in the store and grabbed a cart it was clear that Devlyn was going to be all over the place so I picked her up and plopped her in the cart. Then I turned and did a head count. I came up one head short so I counted again. Still one short. Then I had to run through names and faces from the oldest to the youngest and it was Wyatt that was missing.

I turned and walked to the front doors - no Wyatt. I stepped outside - no Wyatt. It took me all of 3 seconds to realize how LARGE that parking lot was. And it was pitch black outside thanks to Daylight Savings. In those 3 seconds I turned into a crazy screaming lady. I started running through the parking lot looking for the car and screaming "WYATT!!! WYATT!!! WYATT!!!"

Everyone in the parking lot stopped and watched me fly by them. I'm not even sure how I found the car because I certainly couldn't hear the horn (thank the Lord for key fobs) over my screaming. Miraculously, there he was, locked in the car, standing between the driver and passenger seats with his hands in his mouth and tears streaming down his face.

Can you imagine what that poor baby went through? He watched us close the doors and lock them and walk away leaving him there in the car - alone and in the dark. How long must it have felt to him that we were gone? I hauled him out of the car and squatted down in the parking lot hugging him and telling him over "I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry." And I see all the people who aren't moving anymore because they are watching me. All I could think was that I needed to let Mom know everything was ok, but I couldn't move.

Finally a very nice lady came over to see if we were ok and to tell us that if we were both ok, then everything was ok. Shaking like a leaf, I made it back into the store with Wy. Mom was there with the kids an a man who was ready to launch a code Adam if needed - though he did say some folks had told him they thought everything was ok.

A while later I was in the boys section picking out socks when Wy declared quite loudly "Mommy, I didn't wike it when you weft me all awone in the car just now."

Have you ever seen the Harry Potter movie where Professor Lupin teaches the students how to handle a Boggart? Boggarts are shape shifters and present themselves as whatever the victim fears the most: Harry's Boggart becomes a Demontor (they suck all the joy and happiness out of a person.) As Harry learns how to defeat Boggarts, Professor Lupin plies him with chocolate to help him settle down and restore his energy.

I'm sure you can see where I'm going: my Boggart is something terrible happening to one of my kids. Anyway, when we checked out, I picked up a load of chocolate to hand to the kids - and to myself. I really think the chocolate helped. (I will chalk that up to "Things a mom can learn from Harry Potter.")

We went home and put dinner on the table: of course the kids didn't like whatever it was I had fixed. Wy refused to eat any of it and I finally gave in and gave him something like a pop tart. Jack asked why Wyatt got the pop tart and not anyone else. What did I have to say about that?

"Because I left him in the car! And because Mommies apologize with food. It's what we do!"