Then you were gone

I’m not going to mince my words. Today the toddler scared the living Shit out of me. Full on *heart in my mouth OMG I’m going to puke* scared.

I’m struggling a bit with the toddler stage. I don’t enjoy it. At all. Now I have a 2 year old I’ve come to realise that I really don’t like toddlers. Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely adore and love my little person. I’m so in awe of all of the things he learns. Of the way he is changing and growing day by day. But with this warpspeed development comes a lot of confusion and frustration for both him and I. The screaming and the whining. Oh my gosh. The whining. Evolution needs to sort that one out. When he whines I just want to abandon him. The noise goes through me.

I digress.

Back to today; This morning I took the children down to a local Army training area to watch daddy (hubby)  compete in a Corps race. Hubby also happened to be the one that organised the race (along with one of the team managers) so naturally after the event had finished and people had gone on their merry way , we let the toddler run around the training area whilst I boobed baby and we packed the last things in to the cars. Sebastien was happy running about within 40 feet or so of us and we cracked on with packing up ready to go for lunch (At this point I should make it clear that the course had been hired for the purpose of the race and there were no other vehicles other than our own)

Until that moment.

That heart stopping moment when the noise of a horn tears through the air, shattering the silence. That moment when the roar of an armoured vehicle fills your ears and you hear a horn blasting away again and again.

When you turn to look at the toddler and realise he’s slipped out of sight. When you look at your husband and the sheer panic on his face tells you he can’t see the toddler either. The deafening  roar of the armoured vehicle is drawing closer and closer and still a horn is blasting. No toddler. Anywhere.
I can’t see him. I can’t see him. Sebastien. SEBASTIEN. Where are you! 

The vehicle is maybe 150ft away. On the other side of the track. Racing through the woods.

How in hells name did he get over there? We only turned our backs for a second. Why the hell isn’t that vehicle slowing down. OMG. OMG. Slow down don’t just beep at him. NO NO NO NO NO. 

(Now screaming whilst running towards the off-road track.) SEBASTIEN 

But the vehicle doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down . It barrels on through the woods; Horn still blaring. As the noise of the vehicle passes, a little voice shouts “Daddy” and we spin round to see him stood on the drivers seat of hubby’s car, enthusiastically jabbing the horn.

Oh. Oh. You’re there. Oh thank goodness. Oh baby boy. Oh you scared us. We thought that. Well it doesn’t bare thinking about. Are you having fun in daddy’s car? Is that the horn. Oh yes. BEEP. It is a beep. Clever boy. 

It was all just one horrible nightmare inducing coincidence. But for a few seconds I was so scared of what I thought I was about to see that I was nearly sick.

Because we took our eyes off him for just a few seconds.

Toddler stage is hard. So bloody hard and scary! But I will take the whining any day over the heart stopping fear I felt this afternoon. !

Zx