Now before you get CPS on the phone, give this story a chance. I’ve already been threatened by mean local moms over one hundred times this week because I made the mistake of posting on a Facebook networking site that I was in search of recommendations for a pediatrician who would respect my decision not to use medications, vaccines, and antibiotics when unnecessary. That, paired with the fact my son has not been to a wellness check every single month since he was born, is apparently medical neglect and I should go to jail. (Yes, lesson learned–I won’t ask a networking site next time.) Our new pediatrician told me this morning that my son is in perfect health, thank you very much. That’s a different story, but the point is that people are quick to jump to conclusions and we were perfectly safe. I promise.
Still, in retrospect I’m not entirely sure what I was thinking.
Let’s start with my trip back from the Young Living Convention in Salt Lake City last week. You can read about my train wreck of a toddler here, but to sum it up, it went like this: Toddler screamed non-stop from SLC to Denver. Poor lady next to me tried to drown it out with headphones but to no avail–sympathetic looks from all around but if the trip had been any longer we might have been thrown out the emergency exit. Six hour layover in Denver and then toddler screamed non-stop from Denver to Raleigh while mama sat and cried and by the time the plane landed both we were covered in bruises because his temper tantrums (mostly due to teething–perfect timing, right?) involved lots of writhing and biting and throwing himself around. Yikes is right.
I have a wonderful son but I’m not kidding when I say he lost it. And then I lost it.
Nightmare is not an understatement.
The cherry on top of the ice cream sundae of doom was the text I got from my friend while in Denver that informed me of a change of plans that wouldn’t allowed her to make the two and a half hour drive to come pick me up at the Raleigh airport. My husband couldn’t come pick me up due to having to get up for work at 4am and I was too stubborn to ask for help so I was looking at spending the night and the next day at the airport waiting until my husband was able to make the trip to come get me. With all my bags. And a toddler. Alone.
And then my son started screaming bloody murder the second I sat down in seat 27D so yeah, that’s why I broke down and cried half the trip. Sad–I know.
The friendliest older man sat alone next to me, offering to give my son “a ride on his horsey” (his knee) because his two sons had loved that game, but my little guy would have none of it. I still don’t know what the problem was–I’m sure he was overtired–but nothing would calm him down. Everyone on both rows next to me tried to distract him, the flight attendants gave him extra snacks, he screamed like he was going to die, and I cried at the idea of dealing with him alone in the airport overnight.
At some point I felt like I owed the older man next to me, the one who was being so patient and understanding, an explanation. I told him how the previous flight had gone and I explained to him how bleak the coming night looked. Then I took my son to the bathroom and when I came back, the man looked over and me and smiled.
“My wife is sitting in the row behind us and I know we’re strangers but if you feel comfortable enough with it, we would like you to come stay with us tonight. We have the space.”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. Then I said something very gracious and intelligent along the lines of, “Uhhh, what? No way. Are you serious?” He nodded and told me that yes, he was completely serious and without even thinking about the fact I was about to let myself and my baby go home with two strangers, I agreed.
My son didn’t scream any less for the rest of the trip but I certainly felt much better.
The flight landed and they had to wait a long time for me to collect all my bags and the stroller and the car seat and the child and stumble up the runway into the airport. They introduced themselves–Randy and Becky–and it turns out their grown son was on the flight too as they had all been heading back from a family reunion in Colorado, so we picked up our checked luggage and headed across the airport three hours away from my home at midnight to pile into their truck and begin the one hour drive to their town. I had no idea where I was going. I knew next to nothing about the people I was with. I was so exhausted I fell asleep on the drive and when I arrived I didn’t even know where in the state we were, plus I still had no idea how I was going to get back home to Jacksonville.
I guess I am a little crazy.
We’re all about adventures in this family and I had prayed God would provide us with accommodations (or better yet, a ride home!) so we didn’t have to stay at the airport, outside of security since we had to pick up our luggage, which led me to believe ultimately going home with very friendly strangers was the safer option. I am a fairly good judge of character and the sweet wife who invited me into her home had been trying to cheer up little man the whole entire trip even though she didn’t know him.
Now, now–I am fully aware of how deceptive bad people are and how they lure you in and then kidnap you and you’re in deep doo doo–I promise, this was not a foolish decision. I don’t make it a habit to take my son home with strangers so there’s no need for any of this CPS stuff that people keep thinking they’re clever to threaten me with.
In fact, my little man now has adopted North Carolina grandparents, we had a fabulous time, we stayed in the most beautiful old home full of faded yellow antiques and memories and laughter, and we were reminded that God always provides. In my life, He also always provides last minute, but oh, does He ever provide. Friends, this house was gorgeous and ginormous and these were some of the nicest people I have ever met–like instant family. I need to share my sob stories with friendly older couples on airplanes more often, I suppose.
Here is my favorite part of the story:
Before boarding the flight, Randy commented to his son that he was so looking forward to taking a nap on the three hour, late night flight back to Raleigh. Because Randy’s family were all sitting separately, his son boarded after him and as he walked back to his seat, he saw Randy wearing the biggest grin on his face as he sat patiently next to a young mom with a shrieking baby. Randy, Becky, and their son burst out laughing at the irony.
And no, Randy never did get his nap.
“You’ll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.”
― Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You’ll Go!