Mothers of Teenagers Know Why Animals Eat Their Young

After what happened yesterday, maybe I don’t completely understand….

It was 4 p.m., and the girls should have been home after the bus dropped them off. I was picking up some groceries, and I had the youngest boy with me when my cell phone rang. It was Amanda, my middle daughter. She was telling me about a problem, and I was asking her where her older sister was at. I don’t know why. Amanda is old enough to take care of it too, but I automatically defaulted to asking about Autumn.

Amanda: Autumn isn’t here.

Me: You’re kidding, right? Where is she? Let me talk to her.

Amanda: I’m not kidding. She’s not here. I don’t know where she is.

Me: Really? She isn’t there? Seriously? (I was being a little dense.)

Amanda: No. She’s not.

Me: (entering panic mode).

I’m not even sure if I said goodbye to Amanda. I hung up my cell phone, issued an order to Justin and left my half-filled shopping cart in the middle of the aisle as I booked it to the front door and my car. As I walked, I was dialing my husband’s number. I hoped she had made him aware of alternate plans, but he didn’t know anything either. He seemed much calmer than I was though.

We hung up and checked all of the voicemail messages. Between the two of us, we have three voicemail services — one for the home phone, one for my cell and one for my husband’s cell. There weren’t any voicemails. Before I left the parking lot, I was calling her friends whose phone numbers were programmed in my cell phone. I was mentally kicking myself for not having phone books in my vehicle (something I normally always have). And I was also running a mental inventory of where all of the phone numbers were at that I would want Amanda to retrieve for me as I started looking for my daughter. I hated that I was so far from home where there were things I needed, but I was also glad I was so close to the high school, so I could search the area for signs of my daughter. As I started driving towards the high school, I began crying.

I was scared she was gone. I was scared something was wrong. I also thought of scenarios where she was being a teen rebelling, and I replayed the morning argument about her cell phone. If that ended up being the situation, I felt a surge of energy that Autumn better hope gets deferred (think eat young scenario). In the danger scenario, someone else was the brunt of my energy. It was horrible. I must have made about 20 calls in that little space in time. I hated not knowing where one my children were at and having to worry about her well-being. It was emotionally exhausting.

My cell phone rang. It was home, and I heard my daughter’s voice in my ear. “Mom, I’m home.” She sounded like she had been chewed out already (I think her dad already had done that).

She had awards assembly at 2 p.m. that day, and I had mentioned it to my mom. I couldn’t go because of a field trip, but my mom went. I had forgotten all about my mom going to the assembly. After the assembly was over, my mom took my daughter out to dinner. My mom said my daughter called us, but my daughter did not leave any messages. I was furious at both of them, but I was also so relieved she was OK. I was still crying….

She was OK. Crisis adverted. But that was the most horrible feeling in the world. I am glad it turned out the way it did. It was the best scenario. Actually, the best scenario would have been to tell someone or leave a voicemail, but….

Later that night, all four children played Little League games. Steve watched Justin’s game in Houghton Lake. Mom and I took the three girls to Roscommon. We watched the first hour of Autumn’s game and the second hour of Amanda and Maxine’s game. They all won too. Amanda and Maxine won 21 to 9; Autumn doesn’t know her final score, but she knows it was a win. I won too, but I think I am still recovering. And this doesn’t mean I give up any rights to complain about her in the near or distant future. She is still, afterall, 14 with a boyfriend, and we all know what that means….

Thanks for playing.