Freak Out

When I was 4 years old, my cousin and his wife took me, my sister, and their son to the church carnival at night - after dinner. For some reason, our parents didn't come. It was dark and there were lots of things to see. I must have stared at something for far too long because when I turned around, all the people I was with were gone. All I saw were lots of people in the crowds towering over me and I was completely scared. I cried and walked around looking for them, and eventually we were reunited. I remember my cousin wiping my tears away with a huge ring on his finger. Even though I was probably lost for ten minutes, I obviously never forgot that event.

When I became a mother, I promised myself to never give Ricky any kind of memory like that one - where he is alone and afraid.

Today I messed up - kind of...

Ricky's toddler tumbling class takes place on the first floor of the gymnastics center for the first 45 minutes. The last 15 minutes of class are spent on the second floor where the kids can bounce around on all the "big kids" equipment like a floor-length trampoline. Anyways, when class was over and it was time to go, Ricky wanted to take the elevator down. So we got in the elevator and the door shut and Ricky wanted to press the button "1" but he didn't. He wouldn't. And the elevator started humming and making scary noises so after he ignored my pleads to PRESS THE BUTTON, I pressed the button myself.

He was really mad at me and started yelling at me that he was to press the button, NOT me. When we reached the first floor, the elevator doors opened, and he wouldn't get off the elevator. I kept asking him to come with me, that we had to go. He had his arms folded and said NO. So I stepped off the elevator and expected him to eventually follow and to our surprise, THE DOOR CLOSED. I turned around at the noise - and was stunned. My baby. Was still on that elevator.

The elevator went back up to the second floor. Ricky was on the elevator alone. By himself.

I told the teacher who was halfway between floors on the staircase and she ran up and carried him down the steps. He looked fine but when I took him from her he started to cry and kept saying, "You left me on the elevator. I'm sad." And he said it all the way home in the car too.

I feel terrible and I am afraid that this event really terrified him and he will remember it forever. He will be 40 years old and blame me for such and such because of the time I left him on the elevator.