Monday, January 5, 2009
on the outside looking in
This is my back door.
Take a look.
Take a good long look.
Take a look for about 20 minutes.
Then add a very confused two-year-old and a large boxer on the other side of the door.
Did you do it?
That's was my view on Saturday evening.
Yep. I did it. The thing that all mothers fear that they will accidentally do: I locked myself out of the house...and my two small children IN the house.
As soon as it happened, I had that moment that some of you may have had before. The one where you are in total denial about what just happened. In my denial I jiggled the door handle for a insanely unrealistic amount of time - thinking, "maybe it's not really locked" or "maybe I can unlock it if I jiggle it enough".
Yeah. Dream on, Sister.
I tried to keep myself calm by reassuring myself that Charlie was safe in his seat and as long as I could SEE Avery, she was fine. Then I told myself that David would be home -- eventually -- he had just stepped out to grab dinner for us.
Everything would be fine.
Everything would be fine.
Then I had the crazy, unrealistic, worst-case-scenerio thoughts racing through my head:
What if Avery hurts Charlie?
What if there's an emergency situation like a fire?
What would I do?
I didn't want to do anything drastic (like throw the planter through the window) unless I HAD to, and I didn't want to leave the back door to call David from the neighbor's house because that would mean that I would be leaving Avery.
I knocked on the door and desperately tried to enlist the help of the only chance for getting in the house I had: a two-year-old with limited fine motor skills.
I spent the next 20 minutes trying to explain to a toddler how to turn a teeny little lock on a great big door. I almost lost my mind. There was lots of praying going on in those 20 minutes of torture.
At first, Avery thought Mommy was playing a game with her. Between her half-hearted attempts to unlock the door, she squished her face against the glass and blew kisses on it.
When the game got old, she started to get frustrated because she couldn't open the door to go outside with Mommy.
She kept saying, "I want to go outside and play in the sandbox!"
I kept saying, "mommy WANTS you to come outside, but I can't open the door. You need to unlock the door for me."
To which she responded, "NO!" and proceeded to collapse to the floor (in true dramatic girl fashion) and throw an absolute fit.
I felt like doing the same thing.
Thankfully, David came home shortly after the screaming started and rescued me.
Everyone was fine and I survived to tell the story on our blog.
Isn't that what life is all about? Good stories for the blog?
Needless to say, I'm planning on being a little more careful in the future!