Since becoming a stay-at-home mom, shopping with my toddler has turned into a battle for sanity versus insanity and balancing all the unpredictable surprises in between. On one particular trip to the grocery store, I learned the true meaning of what so many veteran parents have repeatedly advised me: "Don't underestimate your child."

That day was extremely stressful. Mitchell was fussy from the start and his bad mood was prevalent throughout our shopping experience. The high-ceilinged supermarket resonated with Mitchell's persistent wailing, and his constant attempts to stand up on the shopping cart seat made our trek to the cashier a difficult one.

By the time we got to the car, Mitchell was swerving his body left and right and back and forth and stamping his feet in mid-air as he struggled and demanded to be let out of the cart. I hesitated to let him out for fear he would walk out in front of oncoming cars and leaving him in the cart unsupervised was not an option. I contemplated strapping him into the car seat, but since I had exhausted all my patience and was in no mood to hear further whining and crying, I decided against it. I ended up placing him in the driver's seat so he could amuse himself by pretending he was driving. I shut the driver's door so he wouldn't fall out while I began emptying the cart.

It was a windy day -- windy enough to force the trunk and back doors shut solid. When the back door went thump before me, my eyes immediately focused in on the power lock. It was down. Mitchell had accidentally locked all the doors from the driver's side. For a few seconds, my mind went blank as if waiting for a director to shout, "Cut!" but this was no film. Something I thought only happened in the movies and to other people was happening to me. What seemed impossible was possible. My son was locked in the car.

With my keys, wallet and phone locked inside with Mitchell, I found myself helpless in this catch-22 situation. I had to leave the car to call for help, but I couldn't leave my child behind either. I was grateful to the couple who eventually pulled into the parking space next to mine. They saw my predicament and immediately offered to phone a towing company. Their support allowed me to stay with Mitchell and helped me to remain calm.

Mitchell was oblivious to the situation. He was laughing, steering, shifting and pushing an array of buttons. I asked him several times to pull up the locking mechanism, but since it required more strength and motor function than a 16-month-old possessed, his fingers slipped with each attempt.

When concerned onlookers began to huddle around the car, Mitchell knew something was wrong and wanted to be let out, but since it was not possible, his cries evolved into screams. In a panicked state, he began jumping vigorously which quickly caused him to vomit. It pained me to watch him, and I forced back the tears that were welling in my eyes, because I knew it would make the situation worse. The fact of not being able to touch my son and give him the comfort he needed was a terrifying feeling, especially since we were in the same place at the same time. I repeatedly tried to verbally comfort him by assuring him that I loved him and that I wasnąt leaving. It was no use, and his screams grew more piercing.

Mitchell was locked in the car for 50 minutes before the tow truck finally arrived, which to a worried mother seemed like an eternity. When the tow truck driver popped my door open, I grabbed my son and held him tight. Once he was snuggled up against my neck, his screaming ceased and a calmness came over him. In a short prayer, I thanked God for letting my son come out of this incident without harm, because I know it could have been worse. The weather could have been hot and humid, or this incident could have happened on a dark street at night.

For several days, I blamed myself for not knowing better. I felt guilty of being an irresponsible mother for putting my son through almost an hour of unnecessary fear, insecurity and confusion, which if I had been more attentive would not have happened. But, as time passed, I accepted what had happened, and my mistake, and convinced myself that no parent is perfect. Parenthood is all about learning through doing, and sometimes that means making mistakes and learning from them. For me, this is one in a long line of trials and errors I know I will be facing on my journey through parenthood.

Fortunately, this incident has not affected Mitchell in a negative way. He is still crazy about cars and enthusiastic about driving. I still put him in the driver's seat, but I make extra sure I have the keys handy and the driver's window is down low enough to allow my hand in and not far enough for Mitchell to climb out.

Having acquired several gray hairs from this incident seemed a small price to pay for a valuable lesson learned, because when a curious toddler is involved, what seems impossible can be possible.