It finally happened...

I forgot a child.  I am a bad bad mom.

This morning, Jeremy had to drive to Bethlehem to a customer, so he got up early, woke me up, and reminded me I had carpool duty.  "Ok," I said, "I can do that. No problem."  Ha!

Joshua's friend showed up early. Ruth was running around saying, "I don't know what to pack for lunch? I don't know what to pack for lunch?  What can I pack for lunch?"  Beginning to help her toss odds and ends into her lunch box, the other neighbor knocked on our back door.  Crap! Ruth has Chorus today! I did a mental head slap.  DUH!  "Ruthie, quick! Haley's at the door. You've gotta get to chorus!"
"I don't have a sandwich! I need a sandwich!"
"What do you mean you don't have a sandwich? What have you been doing all this time? Fine here, have another granola bar. There's your sandwich."  Now there's a healthy lunch. I shoved her out the door.
Good Mom score: -1

I turned to the boys, "Ok guys, pack 'er up. It's time to go."  We shuffled out the door, piled into the van, and took off.  A little more than half-way to the jr/sr High I said, "OMG! I FORGOT HANNAH! I left Hannah home ALL ALONE! CRAP CRAP CRAP CRAP!"  She's only seven. And she's a small, immature seven. How could I have forgotten her? How?

 At seven, an event like this would have set Joshua off into an apoplectic fit of major proportions!  Even mild tempered Ruth, would have cried in distress when she discovered Mama left, and she wasn't with me.  I quickly calculated. Our home is close to the school, but not close enough to turn around and get her. At this point, if I turn around, Josh and Nate will be late.  I asked Joshua, "Does your sister know the phone rule?"
"I dunno. I guess so."

Our home phone has programmable ring tones, like a cell phone.  I programmed my number into the home phone with a specific song. If Josh is home alone, he knows not to answer the phone unless he hears my music.  I took a chance that Hannah had figured out the secret code by virtue of being astute. Dialing my cell phone, I called her.

"Hello M-------s!"
"Wow, Hannah. That was great. You really answered the phone the right way. Good job!"
"Yeah. I heard your music and I answered the phone.  I knew where the button was and everything."
"Yes, baby, you did. I'm sorry Hannah. I left you home all alone."
"I know. I'm ok. You took Josh to school. Will you be home soon?"
"Yeah.  I'm just dropping Josh and Nate off right now. I'll be home in five minutes or less."
"Ok."
"Bye Hannah."
"Bye."
There was a long pause while I waited to hear the phone hang up on her side.
"Um, Mama?"
"Yes, Hannah?"
"How do I hang up the phone?"

I wanted to beat my forehead against the dashboard. She was alone. I forgot her. She was alone, and I forgot her. O.k. so with traffic, it's only a ten minute ride round trip, but I forgot I had a third child. How do you forget a child? Apparently, when the brain is not quite awake, it's fairly easy.

Walking through the door of the house, I noticed Hannah hugging to her chest the hello-kitty dry erase board I use to list all important phone numbers. Five minutes to a seven year old is an eternity.  "I was trying to find your number to call you," she said. Oh, can the guilt get laid on any thicker?

Good mom score: -2,000,000

It's going to take awhile for me to get over this one.