Yesterday...

11 a.m.

I lay down my son for a nap and lay in my bed with my daughter to watch some of her t.v. shows.

11:30 am (ish)

I fall asleep with my daughter (who is 4, by the way) on my bed.

1 p.m.

I wake up and notice that it's really quiet. My daughter is no longer in the room with me. I think she's playing hide and seek.

1-1:05 p.m.

I search the house, calling out her name. My son wakes up and he's soon attached to my hip. I'm concerned.

1:05-1:10 p.m.

I search the house again, with my son, and then I look in the garage, in the backyard, in the front yard, and even in the car. Starting to panic.

1:10-1:15 p.m.

I know that she would never leave the house without me, but I start to think that maybe she got up the courage to walk to her friend's house, so I jump in the car and go a couple of blocks up the street, calling her name.

1:15-1:20 p.m.

I get to her friend's house and pound on the door. Nicole (her friend's mom) answers and I practically shout "WHERE IS ABI?!?!" She says she doesn't know. FULL BLOWN PANIC has now set it and my mouth and throat go completely dry.

1:20-1:25 p.m.

I call 911 on my cell phone. Someone answers, sounding impatient and rude. I tell them that I can't find my daughter and they dispatch some local officers to my home. They tell me to go back to the house so I'll be there when they arrive. Nicole comes back with me.

1:25-1:30 p.m.

Nicole searches the house with me and can't find her. I'm hysterical now. I freak out Nicole's kids. I think that someone has come into the house and abducted her. Nicole rounds up some neighbors to drive around the neighborhood and she sets off on foot. I'm left at the house.

1:33 p.m.

Local dispatcher calls. Gets a better description of my daughter. Stays on the phone with me until...

1:35 p.m.

The police arrive. There are three of them and they are huge. They ask me what happened and then say "Where is the very last place you saw her?" I tell them my room. They go upstairs.

1:36 p.m.

"Ma'am, could you come up here please?" Terrified, I pick up my son and walk upstairs. Panic attack still happening. I get to my room and the officer says...

1:37 p.m.

"Would you be looking for that pretty little thing underneath all that laundry? She's snoring!"

No exaggeration guys, that's just how it happened. I learned two things from this.

1) Nothing is more important or precious to me than my children.

2) Do the laundry.