In which it is revealed what a terrible and neglectful mother Sarah and Molly had.
While growing up, there weren't a lot of requests to have me babysit. For one, There just wasn't a huge clientele in the sparsely populated area I grew up in. For two, and most importantly, I just didn't really like little kids. As a teenager, my babysitting philosophy was to make sure no one was bleeding, they were fed at appropriate times and that I would have enough reading material to last till the parents came home.
This philosophy has served me well as a parent also!
Thankfully, when Les and I had children, the Lord blessed us with two relatively well behaved kids who played well alone. If they disappeared for hours in their rooms, I was pretty confident they were fine and because the Lord watches over little children (them) and fools (me), mostly they were.
I remember one day when Molly was about 18 months and Sarah was four, I was lying on the couch in the living room, doing of all things--reading a book (you're shocked, I know) and I realized I hadn't heard from them in a while. I had a vague memory of hearing the door shut to Sarah's room. As I laid there on the couch with my book propped on my stomach and glass of iced tea handy, my mind went into emotional overdrive..
"What if they are so quiet because they are dead? What if Sarah shut Molly in the plastic tote the waffle blocks are in and she has suffocated?"
(ok, here comes the 'pathetic mother' part)
You see, I was really weary that day. I was tired of watching a toddler and a preschooler. I was weary of saying 'we'll see" (another phrase for no) about going to the park or taking a walk or riding bikes. I really, really wanted to read that book.
So I thought... (are you ready?) "Well, if Sarah has shut Molly in a plastic box and she has suffocated, I can't do anything about it now. I might as well just enjoy my time here alone while I can because there will be a lot of weeping and wailing later.
So kill me now....call the police....I think the statute of limitations has run out on child abuse after 18 years...
I just really didn't want to be needed all the time.
I'm feeling so much better now that my neglectfulness has been revealed to the world. Thanks for listening!
Many stories herein are subject to the faulty, and sometimes creative, memory of the blog owner and should not be taken as factual, although the names and events are real! Kind of.