I had just finished kissing the elbow of the slightly injured two year old when I realized I was unsure of the whereabouts of her infant sister. Where could she be? We had several conveniently placed "baby stations" throughout the house, so I started the rounds.
The swing in the living room. No Kenly.
The bouncy chair in the bathroom. (You try handling nature's calls one-handed) No Kenly.
Her crib? Nope. The bassinet? Oh dear Lord, where IS my baby?
Panic was taking hold of me. Sure, she was a newborn and couldn't have crawled away but where was she? I was near tears and my racing heart was now residing in my stomache. I couldn't breathe.
"Ashlyn, honey - where is baby sister? Where did Mommy put Kenly?" She responded with a quizzical look while fixating her stare on my arm.
"This is NOT the time for anatomy lessons; it's an arm kid. Now, what have we done with KENLY?" As I said this I glanced down at the limb Ashlyn was so consumed with, and there, lying perfectly secure and fast asleep was the misplaced baby. I had been holding her the entire time.
I cried. And laughed. And hugged the little lost child while profusely thanking the other for understanding what I was asking.
I then called the Hubs and demanded he return home so I could take a week-long nap.
How we've all survived the 3 years following that day is nothing short of miraculous.
Now, for the Darlings:
Ash, showing off her new break-dance move; the sidewalk chalk hop. Or something.
Sweet Ashlyn again. Isn't she just so precious? And innocent? Her drawings are nothing short of artistic genious and... Oh holy toledo. Would you look at that other kid in the background? What the heck kind of terrible mom let's her child get so darned close to the STREET?
The same kind that *misplaces* her newborn, it would seem.