Momnesia

Wait... What?

I had put Emmie down for a nap just minutes before she started whining. It was a keening, high-pitched "eeeeeee... mommeeeeeeyyyyyyy...." that turns my inner ears to jelly. You know when Bruce Banner turns into the incredible Hulk? Wait around at my house for that sound to occur if you want to see it happen right before your eyes.

So when she started that crap today, I did what any experienced parent of a toddler does: I ignored it.

It continued. I hummed songs from "Lazy Town" to cover the irritation.

It got louder. So did I.

And then, the sound that every mother dreads: The shriek of pain and fear. If you don't have children, trust me when I say you'll learn the difference between their cries fast enough.

I speed-walked into her bedroom, still not entirely certain there was anything wrong. She's a skilled mimic, after all, and it's sometimes disturbing to see myself reflected in her behavior.

But there she was, with one arm pinned between her footboard and her bookcase. I quickly freed her - she needed only millimeters - and scooped her into my arms. She scrambled into Trauma Position, prone on my stomach with her arms latched tightly around my shoulders. And she cried. Oh, she cried like there was no tomorrow.

"Honey, I don't understand," I said, when she had devolved into mere snuffles. "What were you trying to do."

She looked at me. "You not coming!" she said, gesturing to the door.

"I'm right here!" I protested, guilt flaring like some hidden coals within me.

"But... but... you not coming froo da door!" she accused me soundly with hurt in her eyes.

"I did come!" I said, squirming internally. I intentionally ignored her. I did. I sat and counted and sang the better to accomplish the intent.

"But... you not running!" she said, and scowled at me. "You need go fasser! You need runrunrunrunrun!"

"I didn't come fast enough for you?" I asked, now fully engulfed in mental flagellation (Calm down, Scott. That's not something sexy).

"NO!" she stated. "Nesstime, you running."

"I'm very sorry, Roodle-Doodle," I said, as she continued to elbow and knee me in the soft parts of my body... which, come to think of it, is every part. "I will go faster next time."

"Iss okay," she said, giving me a gentle smooch on the lips. "Less try again."