Independence

Have you ever had that moment, as a mom, where your heart is racing because your child is not responding to your increasingly urgent calls?

That just recently happened to me. My daughter had a birthday party to attend down the street at a neighbor's house. My husband walked her down and my son and I continued our little chores around the house.
Jadon was content to be in the living room picking up his cars (upon threat of loosing them to the time-out bin), so I took a load of laundry down stairs, intent on getting as many loads done as possible. I was only gone about five minutes and came upstairs to all the cars picked up, but Jadon was no where to be found. With visions of an intruder having carried him off, I was running room to room yelling at the top of my lungs after about 15 seconds of calmly and rationally calling his name. By chance I glanced outside, and caught sight of a little hat. I looked at the front door, it was open... the glass screen door slightly ajar.

I crammed on my husband's shoes and raced out the door yelling Jadon's name.

"What, Mommy?" he answered blithely, coming around a bush that had blocked my view of him from the window. I ordered him to my side, none to patiently. His big eyes filled with tears as he obediently walked my way, his boots on the wrong feet and one glove missing. I noticed that he'd put on his own coat too (something we have to pull teeth to get him to do when we're in a hurry to get out the door), and had his hat on as well. Good kid, I thought, he got boots, coat, hat and at least one of two gloves on before going outside.

"Where were you going? Why did you leave the house?" I asked as he stood in front of me.
"I-I-I-I need to catch up to Daddy. He-He-He-He left me!" Jadon was crying in earnest now.

Meanwhile Bryce had seen Jadon walking down the street on his own and was running toward us. Jadon looked so dejected and upset that I swallowed my fear and anger and took his hand, leading him to the front steps, as Bryce caught up with us.

"Good job picking up all your cars before you left," I said, cuddling him beside me, taking off his boots and glove. He paused in his hick-uping tears to smile radiantly at me. "Did you put your boots and coat on all by yourself?"
He nodded and ran his sleeve under his runny nose as I removed his coat.
"Good Job." My heart was returning to it's normal pace and Bryce was catching his breath by now. Jadon gave us another radiant smile through his tears, now just a random trickle down his cheek.

"Jadon, did you leave the house by yourself?" Bryce asked. Jadon nodded but didn't look at his Daddy. We launched into a gentle discussion of why 3-year-old boys shouldn't leave their homes without a Mommy or Daddy with them. Jadon listened very intently. When we were through he looked up at Bryce and said, "Daddies shouldn't leave their-their-their boys at home," and the tears filled his eyes again, though he didn't start crying. "I-I-I-I just, well, I-I-I just wanted to catch up with you, cubie you left without me!" His look was like a hurt puppy-dog as he squared his eyes with Bryce's.

Well, at that point I let Bryce and Jadon deal it out, and with apologies and promises they reconciled. But I still had to square things up with Jadon.

"Jadon, Mommy was really scared when I couldn't find you in the house. Your choices hurt Mommy's feelings," I started.
Jadon was quick. "I-I-I, well, I'm sorry I hurt you Mommy. Will you forgive me?"

How in the world could I not!!! Oh for the love of sons. What would life be like without them? My son is indeed coming into his own independence, in more ways that one.