Just for the record.

Usually when something’s bugging me I find that if I splurge it all out on the virtual page, it helps me get out of my stuck-spot and move on. My covid-mask post the other day was a prime example. When I found out lots of you felt the same and I wasn’t a selfish social pariah I felt a stone lighter.

So here goes…

I think I had the worst 15 minutes of my life on Saturday and I can’t stop jolting back to thinking about it and knocking myself sick all over again.

We were in Edinburgh with my lovely mam for a much needed break and had had a really great morning at the Botanic Gardens where the boys hadn’t really appreciated the flowers; but had very much enjoyed playing hide and seek and flashing their bums at strangers.

We headed into Princes Street for a mooch round the toy shops (there are NONE in Edinburgh but that’s another story) then crossed over into the park for a Nutella crepe. Dylan was playing keepy-ups with his new ball and managed to kick it into some bushes and off it rolled down the hill. I told him to run down and get it and come straight back.

As you do; me and my mam got chatting and it took a few minutes to register that he hadn’t come back. After a couple more minutes of shouting his name down the hill I think we both suddenly felt uneasy. As we walked down the path to the park below, he was nowhere to be seen. Increasingly frantically we shouted his name and asked people; but nobody had seen our little blonde boy; who was ‘about this tall’.

The next bit couldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes but it taught me the true meaning of panic. We say all the time that we’re panicking or terrified don’t we? But I think this was my first real experience of it.

By now lots and lots of people had got up from their picnic and were setting off in different directions helping me, calling his name over and over. I think I held it together until a nice lady said “have you called the police yet?” I replied that he’d only been gone ten minutes, surely it was too early to do that? She touched my arm gently and said “if he’s gone, every minute is going to count.”

The scream that came out of me must’ve spooked poor Jonah and within seconds he was fully hysterical, alternating between falling to his knees and beating the grass and running off screaming his brothers name. All the while Ellis stood next to me cool as a cucumber playing with his digger. Oh to be an oblivious three year old!

The 999 operator got no sense out of me whatsoever. My mind was filled with all the worst scenarios and a certainty that I’d never see him again. I kept thinking of this photo that I’d taken minutes before hand; that it would be the last one I’d ever take. That it would be the one that was on the news.

As I guesstimated his height for the operator (I was 15cm out so that would’ve been no help 😂); two young girls sprinted towards me shouting “we’ve got him, we’ve got him!” He rounded the corner with my poor mother who looked like she’d aged 10 years (soz Mam) and my legs literally went from underneath me. I thought that only happened in the movies, but as I looked over at Jonah I saw the same thing had happened to him. The three of us clung onto each other sobbing like we’d been apart for 15 years not 15 minutes. The helpers ebbed away awkwardly and I was glad. I’ve never felt so exposed in my life (and I had a wild youth let me tell you).

Anyway. All’s well that ends well. We went to the play park, and Jonah managed to stop ugly crying and shaking after about another 20 minutes.

In the hours afterwards a thought kept creeping in. And it was that if he’d disappeared; if that was it… people might not know how amazing he is. And how much I love him with every breath I take. Because you see I spend most of my time on the old socials talking about how I think they’re all a bunch of cocks. Funny cocks like. But cocks nonetheless.

So yeah; just so it’s out there for all the world to know. That kid, all those kids are the loves of my life. And just because I have their bloody lives on here; it doesn’t mean I don’t cherish them. Sorry if that’s obvious… but it was like a terrible bit of trapped wind that I just needed to let out.

One thought on “Just for the record.

  1. Scariest thing in the world. Happened once at a soft play place they had in a restaurant on holiday. He definitely went in but never came back out! Turns out he’d sneaked out when we were reading the menu and legged it!


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