Have you Ever Done This? No, Seriously.... Somebody Tell Me You've Made This Mistake Too

I told my friend Bridgette I would do another post for her, and so here it is.
I do feel bad encroaching on Josh's DecBloMo territory, but fate (and my bad parenting) has given me some serious blogging fodder, so here it is in all its delicious glory.

No one needs to worry about Spencer being neglected anymore.

You might, however, consider worrying a little about Matthew.

Josh mixed these 2 boys up in the last post, so just to clarify, Matthew is our 2-year old and Spencer is our 6-month-old baby. But if you saw just their heads, you might mix them up because Matthew's head is actually smaller than Spencer's.

Anyway - on with my story. Yesterday at church Josh & McKay weren't feeling well, so they took Spencer & went home early. Matthew went to the Nursery and I went to teach some Sunbeams. After church I raced home (about a 10 minute drive), eager to feed Spencer. I was around the corner from our house when I got a phone call. My first thought was to look at my church bags to see if I left something at the church because I drag like 3 bags of goodies to church to entertain those crazy little 3 year olds plus my own kids for 3 hours. It didn't dawn on me what the call was about until my friend on the other end of the line asked "um, are you still at church... because...um... Matthew still is...."
In retrospect, I should have lied. I should have been like, "Yeah, I'm totally in the bathroom and it's taking a little longer than I thought. I'll be about 10 minutes." But I just owned it & now I'll own it here. I am unfit to be a mother! I left my child at church.
The only thing that made me feel better (and maybe a little worse, as a psychologist...) was that my friend said, "don't feel too bad. Somebody else's kid is still here too."

When I came back to pick up Matthew, he was inside his Nursery teacher's van, sandwiched in between her 2 little girls and looking not altogether unhappy but a little confused. His nursery teacher said he was doing okay but seemed worried & kept asking "is my mommy going to come get me?"

All the way home I couldn't help but ruminate on the fact that I may have just caused irreparable psychological damage to my child. I mean, we're talking about the kiddo who still occasionally cries when I drop him off at Nursery, the little boy whose favorite book is Owl Babies, the mother (no pun intended) of all attachment books. He likes me to read it to him every day and the last couple times I've read it, he has giggled a little too nervously when Sarah, Percy, and Bill's mother does not come back for them.

I guess at least I know a good school psychologist.