A 4AM Search and Rescue Mission

When Your 4 A.M. Wake-Up Call Comes from a Toy Search Party

It’s 4 a.m.

The house is dark, quiet, and, for a fleeting moment, I think we might actually make it to sunrise without a toddler wake-up call.

And then I hear it: a cry. Not the kind that drifts back into sleep after a minute. This is the kind of cry that says “something is terribly wrong”… or at least that something very important has gone missing.

My little one is sitting up, eyes puffy, repeating through tears:

“Gone. It’s gone.”

Now, at 4 a.m., my brain is running on about three remaining neurons, all of which are trying to interpret toddler language while balancing empathy and sheer survival instinct.

“Okay, buddy,” I whisper. “Show me what’s gone.”

We venture out to the living room, where the dog blinks at me like I’ve lost my mind for turning on the light at this ungodly hour. I’m inclined to agree.

The investigation begins.

“Dino gone?” I ask hopefully.

Head shake. “No.”

Alright then. Not a dino.

He points toward the dog. “Doggy gone.”

“Are you sad because the dog isn’t in bed?” Another “no.”

“Daddy gone?” I try next, stretching my limited logic as far as it can go before dawn.

“No.”

Okay. Deep breath. Therapist hat on. “Are we looking for a dog?”

He nods.

“What color is the dog? Blue?”

Head shake.

“Red?”

Nod.

“Red dog!” he exclaims.

Finally, something to go on! My caffeine-free detective work pays off.

“You mean Charger?” I ask.

He lights up. “Charger!”

We find the red dog toy, there’s a triumphant “thanks, mama,” and my tiny human toddles back to bed satisfied. The crisis is over.

Apparently, the pointing toward the dog earlier made perfect sense, in his sleepy little mind, the real dog looked a lot like Charger from Rubble and Crew (he’s not wrong, he kind of does). And honestly, at 4 a.m., I couldn’t tell you which one of us made less sense.

He’s back asleep within minutes. Me? I stare at the ceiling, equal parts amused and exhausted, until sleep finds me about an hour later.

Counselor’s Corner: The Non-Lesson Lesson

Here’s the thing, sometimes there isn’t a deep parenting or therapeutic lesson hiding inside these moments.

Sometimes it’s just: you do what you have to do.

You stumble through the dark half-awake, decode toddler logic like it’s a secret language, and keep everyone (mostly) calm until the storm passes.

As a counselor and a mom, I often remind parents that not every hard moment has to be teachable. Some moments are just survivable. They remind us that persistence, however messy or tired or nonsensical, still counts as progress.

And honestly? That’s the kind of resilience that parenting (and life) is really made of.

So, no tidy wrap-up lesson today. Just a reminder: Even when you’re bleary-eyed, toy-hunting at 4 a.m., you’re doing a good job. .

And if you’re lucky, you might even get to sleep until 9 a.m. afterward.