Yesterday after work, we had a little bit of excitement. Rebekah, our 3-year old, got lost. Actually, she knew exactly where she was, but the rest of us didn't. The playground for the apartment complex we live in is right outside our back door, so we normally let our kids go out whenever they felt like it. Well, my poor wife looked out there and only saw our two oldest and asked them where Rebekah was.
"I don't know, Mom. Check out front."
Next thing I know, my wife comes back and says with a little edge on her voice that she needs help finding her. I spend the next half hour doing a spiral search (starting at the playground and spiraling outwards) while trying to keep the other kids calm and inside the apartment.
I figured she couldn't have gone far and that I would find her soon. There are a ton of kids living around here and I jumped at the sound of every kid playing, yelling, calling, etc. On my last pass, I was planning on telling my wife to contact the apartment supervisors and tell them we had a lost kid. But as I approach home, I saw my wife giving me the sign language for "yes," meaning she found Rebekah.
Turns out she was just over the hill from our front door playing with another kid (barely older than Rebekah) who kept trying to tell my wife that they were at the playground - he was probably going to get in trouble as well. She only came back because she got hurt - a minor bump somewhere (at that point I wasn't too worried about getting more details). I probably would have come across her on my next spiral out, but it was still a bit nerve-wracking. Nothing like losing a child to make you feel like a bad parent.
Needless to say, playground privileges have been severely restricted.
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