This “Idiot Speaketh” article, made me think of, let’s call them “parenting fouls” committed. Something making you want to say “DO over!” It’s so awesome to reflect back on and laugh (now.) What’s your story?
My husband is in Sales and his territories have always included many states, which require traveling away from home for few days/week at a time. It was one of these trips that my “parenting foul” was committed.
My son was 3 1/2 and my daughter was 1 1/2. It was meal time, and thankfully, I had Samantha secured in her highchair. I needed something from the extra refrigerator in the garage, so I opened the baby gate and ran downstairs and into the garage.
As the door slammed behind me, a dreaded “Uh, oh.” went into my brain. Although we’d been living in our condo for 2 years, I kept forgetting the garage door is a heavy fire door and the handle was often in “lock” position. You know those locks, the ones where on the inside you can easily turn the knob and open the door (but it’s actually in locked mode), so on the other side (the outside) the knob is locked?
So, there I was, in the garge locked out of my house. A range of emotions flooded through me. The first being, Anger at my husband for not changing the lock as requested many times. Next, worry, am I stuck in the garage? Followed by Relief, “oh silly, just open the main garage door.” Relief again, oh, thank GOD I’m fully clothed! (because it’s not unusual for mom’s of young children to be in a state of getting completely dressed, and somehow running around half-naked, half the day)
Next, was PANIC! How am I going to get back into the house, and my young children are upstairs with no supervision! Of course, the front door is locked. What if the baby chokes? What if my 3 year old chokes or gets into something? My husband wasn’t due home for another 5 hours and was on an airplane!
Thus began the curses:
Damn him for not making the “lock change” a priority! Damn him for leaving town! Damn us for living upstairs and I don’t have the skills to scale the wall and enter our open bacony door! Damn it, why didn’t I remember to unlock before exiting & what am I going to do?
So I hit my neighbor’s house, (again, thankful for being fully dressed) and asked him for help with a ladder, or if he could get on the roof somehow and enter our open balcony area. That door was wide open…of course, he said there’s no way with the Spanish roof tile, those things slide off very easily. Great. Thanks for the “no-help, dude.” Does AAA open locked house doors?
Then an idea hits, I don’t think I closed the baby gate and my 3yr old had just discovered how to turn the front door deadbolt. In my excitement, I ran up to the front door and tried knocking and calling him, but he wasn’t responding…so I did something completely stupid. I rang the doorbell several times…forgetting my son’s preschool had a false fire alarm the other day, and he was FREAKED about the loud noise. For some reason, it was a very scary experience for him. Well, I could hear him scrambling and running around, crying, “too loud…too loud.” Great, the door bell reminded him of the fire alarm. Now he’s looking for mommy for guidance and comfort, and I’m not there, and am the source of the scare. Fantastic.
Next idea…the open kitchen window…I’ll call to him! So I began calling his name, and after several attempts, finally got his attention. “I know you can’t see me, but can you hear mommy?” After “talking” (more like yelling up to him) and calming him down, I asked “Honey, did mommy leave the stair gate open?” Relief…I had?
“Can you please come downstairs and let mommy in? I locked myself out, sweetie. Remember how big you are, being able to turn the deadbolt? I know we told you not to do that, but it’s okay right now.” With extra coaxing and talking through the door, my big guy announced he was there and remembered how to unlock the door! WHEW!
BIG HUGS, BIG HUGS… and my son had to tell me about the “horrible” noise he experienced. All while I ran upstairs to check on my girl. I made a funny face at her. She was happily eating, had made a fantastic mess of herself, and clapped when she saw me…fully entertained. Silly, mommy.
Needless to say, after returning home, my husband changed the knob to a deadbolt the very next day. No more lock-out accidents- a key is required to turn the deadbolt.
Parenting fouls suck at the time, but so ahhsome to share later!
Got any to share?