I will start by saying that this isn’t a big deal, really.
The other day after a day out shopping with the while fam damily, I noticed Ava Scarlett’s sunglasses were no longer perched on the top of her head, where they normally are when we’re indoors.
I got that sinking feeling.
Where are her sunglasses? I ask, but not to no one in particular… I tried hard not to indicate this in my husband’s direction, nor did my eyes want to meet his glance. I knew with a single look, he’d feel terrible that something had gone amiss on his watch. Not meeting his gaze said the very same thing though. By not looking at him, I still meant How could you let this happen?
This is silly. They’re sunglasses for goodness sake. They can be replaced.
It took me some (silent) time to consider what my problem was… besides that fact that I HATE losing things. I wish I could have seen them fall down a sewer, or had watched them get tossed into a food court trash bin along with the lunch wrappers and refuse. It’s not knowing that drives me nuts.
As I marched back to the last-places-we’ve-been, scanning the floor in the nearly empty mall for a tiny, but excellent, pair of child’s sunglasses, I know part of the reason I’m so annoyed is because keeping track of these little specks have just been a part of what I do for more than a long time now.
She owned a different pair before these… once during the hustle to my son’s karate lesson, I heard a clatter of plastic on the sidewalk in my general vicinity, but after a quick scan of the ground around me, and noting that we still had the sippycup, purse, keys and whatever other paraphernalia still on our persons, we sprinted onward. It wasn’t until we returned home, unpacking our stuff, that I realised that clatter I’d heard before was her sunglasses hitting the pavement. Now long gone.
I spied this latest pair soon afterward – they were almost identical to a pair I’ve been wearing, that she always wanted to try on, if left unattended. You know how babies put on your glasses – they grab an arm in each hand and swiftly pry them outward, until they’re ready to break. She did this with mine every time she could get her hands on them, so when I saw these at Old Navy for four tiny dollars, I snapped them up. This was well over a year ago.
I’m not particularly into matching mummy-baby outfits (I mean, c’mon) but in the case of the sunglasses, it was a fun kind of cool.
And that’s in part because they’re not costume-y or crazy-looking, covered in pink hearts or penguins – just cool-looking shades for a cool little kid. And they looked wicked on her.
I’ve not lost track of them after all this time because I know the clatter sound very well now. I’d know when they hit the ground. I’ve become accustomed to a kind stranger stopping to hand them too me with an outstretched hand, and a smile. If the child was giddy and bouncing around, I hold onto them for safe keeping. If they weren’t on her head, they were in my hand. Or in my purse. Always.
Or, at least the were, until Saturday afternoon when I left my fam damily in the food court so I could peruse my Happy Place (the one that rhymes with Sinners…) unencumbered for a while, without the tugging and the whinging, and the eye rolls, and the can we please go now? moans that are constantly being uttered by the Littles. A lady needs a little peace while she browses, you know.
The last time I saw them, they were on her head, as she twisted and turned on her knees on the food court stool, eating pizza and stealing sips of coke… and I had the thought to put them in my purse, but then shrugged the idea off, thinking what could happen? And I left.
And now they’re gone.
And I need to apolgise to Martin for making him feel bad with my sullen mood on the drive home. Bad form, Tracey. It’s not his fault, really. He’s not used to the daily minutiae of keeping track of kid things… a lost mitten or a forgotten hat. These things happen. And these things can be replaced. It’s really no big deal.
It’s just a drag, since they were
her my favourite.
End note: I always had sunglasses for my kids from the time they were fairly small – not (just) for vanity purposes, but because they’d help keep a squinting, drowsy kid from sleeping in the stroller before we got home for nap time. It worked nearly every time. AND they look adorable. Win-win.
How do you react when you lose things? Are you prone to tantrums, or do you roll with the punches?
Well, she didn’t lose her adorable, that’s for sure!
I hate losing things, too, partly for the feeling of losing control of things (which feels tenuous at the best of times), and partly for the cost of replacement. I do tend to buy extras of those easily-lost items, though, so I can suck it up more readily and not have to panic about finding a new winter hat at 11 pm for the next morning in January! also? My nearly-7-year-old still wears mitten clips. I know, but it keeps us both from losing it.
Thanks, Carol. Oy. It really is a crappy feeling… like, “Maybe, just MAYBE it’s in my purse/pocket/jacket i searched 400 times already… maybe… no? Balls.”
Maybe your daughter will just roll with it? I hope so. For her sake. This feeling sucks.
You’re doing it the right way, Heather. I’m sure of it. But indeed… those glasses… uchhhh.
Hahahahahahaaaaa… poor Sara. Hee!!
And yes, those boots… they’re awesome cuffs I found to combat the ugly-pink-and-purple-winter-boot problem. Cheap as chips, and tres adorable. If I lose one, I will die.
Oh Christine, I KNOW!! I don’t like change much either, it seems… I feel all, “oh balls!” when they outgrow their cutest stuff too, you know what I mean? I’m so glad you found Cuy’s hat!! Lucky mama…!
I need a bandais for my death-ray eyes. Yes.
Oh Tracey I feel for you! I lose everything and know too well that feeling of dread when I realize that i have lost another treasured item. And now it seems that I have passed this horrible trait to my oldest daughter, who loses everything too!
I am totally a roll with it girl but I’m married to a must-find-it-now man. Sigh. Her glasses ARE cute though. Those I would miss terribly.
ummm could her boots be any cuter?
I lose my MIND when I lose things…mostly because I can hear my mom yelling ‘you’d lose your damn head if it wasn’t screwed on’ – and I know she’s right.
Totally bent out of shape. That’s how I get.
I don’t like change and normally when things are lost – new things need to replace them.
Cuyler lost his MOST adorable robot hat at the movie theatre, which was a good 25 minute drive. It bothered me for days. I loved that hat.
My father in law knows me and and loves me alot and made the drive out there and found said hat in the lost and found. I was thrilled to get it back. Cuyler didn’t even notice.
Pat steer says
The pain of it happens all the time. Hit by The Awful Realization! No band-aid for that.
Bless you, woman. It sucks, right? But we really can’t cast the blame… it just ain’t right, right? (I’ll bet that jacket was tres adorable though… poo.)
Lisa Rae @ smacksy says
Ah yes, the perfect tiny Pendelton jacket left behind at breakfast… by Daddy.
I remember it well.