Running Free

I closed the door quietly behind me, as I slipped out to get my two older kids from the bus stop. I was lucky to live close to the bus stop. The bus pulled right in front of my house, and I only had to walk to the other side of the street to greet the bus. My little girl was in kindergarten, so they wouldn’t let her off the bus without seeing a parent. Her older brother would wait patiently at the door while she tottered off the bus, her oversized backpack often handed to me by the bus driver because it would knock her over. We hadn't lived there long. The house was a wreck of boxes, and we still didn't have the furniture fully put together. I'd enrolled the kids as quickly as I could to give them a sense of security that came from school and friends.

It had been a long day. My youngest had refused to take a nap and had spent the entire day puttering around making messes while I was trying to turn an empty house into a home. Our dogs hadn't gotten used to the new home sounds and so they were overly protective, barking at every little sound. So when the bus came, my little one was happily watching mickey mouse, I took the chance of taking two minutes alone to get the other two kids from the bus. Suddenly one of the parents yelled out to get my attention. Their finger was pointing at my front door which had been flung open. My 100lb Bernese Mountain dog, Bonesy girl, was running down the road, with my little Corgi mix, Domino, chasing after her. The bus was already parked, and kids were flowing off. In that moment, I forgot about getting my older two from the bus. I had the realization that my dogs were headed straight toward the entrance of our housing. If they broke free from the gates, I’d never catch them. As if that wasn't bad enough, the guards didn't look like they had any interest in helping me catch the 100 lbs of joyful force running towards them. Then my panic set in, “Where was my naughty little two-year-old?” Chasing the two dogs, I noticed my two-year-old was leading this pack, somewhere along the line he had stripped down to nothing. He was running gleefully enjoying his newfound freedom from both mommy and clothing.

The other parents were torn between getting their own children from the bus and helping me catch my naked crew. Thankfully one of the parents of an older child had the thought to look for leashes, and grabbed the leashes from my open front door. They met me to leash the wild bucking bronco of a Bernese, who thought the game had ended too soon. Once she realized her new favorite neighbor was holding the leash, she calmed down and insisted on giving him hugs on her back legs. At full height, she can put her paws on my chest, so it was a massive hug. Thankfully the dad seemed to enjoy her affection. I wasn’t worried about Domino, he thought it was his job to supervise, so as soon as Bones was caught, he had come back with her. My attention turned once more to the giggling toddler who thought this new game was the best. His legs got tired very quickly and I was finally able to catch my wild naked boy.

I pulled him tight to my chest as I inhaled painfully from my full sprinting. As I began to breathe normally, I remembered the reason I was initially outside, the bus! I turned around to face all the other parents and kids standing there watching me. I took Bonesy’s leash firmly and tried to act like it was a normal day. But as the bus driver grew impatient my newfound bravado faded. I gathered my two other kids and tears started streaming down my face. The tears on my face seemed to spring the other parents to action. They kept telling me I was okay, and it was the funniest thing they’d seen in weeks. The neighbor directly across from me told me to get the kiddo some clothes and come back out, they’d grab some wine, and we could have a drink while the kids played with chalk. My three under seven were okay. They got my naughty little boy some outside toys and we sat soaking up the sun while the kids wore off the excess energy. They say it takes a village to raise a child. My neighbors became my village that day. I was an exhausted mother who was minutes from breaking, so they stepped in and helped me take a few minutes to recharge. On days when I appeared a little more disheveled than normal, they would sit outside with me while the kids played, and I could take a few deep breaths with adult interaction. I wasn't alone to deal with the ups and downs of small children.

I wish I could say that was the last time my little streaker stole the show, but over the course of that year, my neighbors had the privilege of watching my children live their best lives, streaking, playing in the dirt, and giving me a run for my money. They were always gracious and kind. Telling me that they thought it was amazing how free-spirited I let my children be. I'd just take a long sip of wine and reply, I may be exhausted, but they are very confident in who they are. I hope someday it calms down, but for now, we're just going to roll with it.