(be sure to see Jen for more takes)
1.
Someone please come take John-Luke from me. For the next two years. Because he's only two now, and oh my God if he's this bad now I'm not going to be able to survive when he's three and yes, I know I've done this four times already and you'd think I was a newb but seriously guys, he's demonic.
2.
The big three were playing outside today in the snow. The little three (Jude, John-Luke and Veronica- ha no oxford comma there, whatcha gonna do about it?) were inside with me. Our house has no less than five (FIVE!!!) points of exit, and I'd locked four of them to make sure JL didn't escape. The front door was unlocked but shut.
I ran downstairs for 15 seconds to grab something, and in that amount of time, the doorbell rang, Jude opened it, and before I could run (actually, literally run) upstairs, I heard a foreign adult male's voice saying, "Who am I? Who are you?"
3.
A foreign adult male. In my house.
4.
I rounded the corner just about to launch into an unexpected "I'm suddenly a ninja and I will do a roundhouse kick to your face, stranger, if you need one", and what do I see?
My neighbor, holding John-Luke. Who is covered in...snow?
5.
Why was he covered in snow? Oh come on. You already know the answer to this. He had run out the front door, down the street, in the dusky snow, and was discovered by my neighbor.
Running down the street. In the snow.
Barefoot.
6.
So when I thanked my neighbor for bringing JL home, ushered the guy out of the house, locked the door, and began preparing for the inevitable visit from Child Protective Services, it dawned on me.
I am not cut out to be a mother.
Then I called Ken, who is in the middle of a hellish two weeks at work, and decided that it was a supremely appropriate time to tell him that I was no longer going to be filling the role of wife and mother, since I clearly suck at it, and he was just going to have to figure out a suitable replacement for me by the time he got home.
7.
Then I threw all the kids in bed at 7:30, angrily went to read blogs, and saw that Jessica had posted this gem, which lifted my spirits juuuuust enough that I'll give Ken two weeks to find Mommy 2.0
I feel ya. I so feel ya on this. My two year old is driving me bonkers. Like, I feel like I should sprinkle him with holy water on the daily. ((hugs))
ReplyDeleteNo. I cannot. Black vortex of terror would ensue if he and Cecilia joined forces. Hey, you might wanna reconsider those summer plans, huh?
ReplyDeleteSo sorry, Cari. What a horrible feeling. I'm glad he is safe and sound. You are an excellent mother - don't beat yourself up!
ReplyDeleteOh Cari, we should be neighbors and buddies.
ReplyDeleteI have seriously said that exact same thing to Mike more times than I could count in the past week. And I think my girls and John Luke would be good friends.
But really, sorry it was a rough day. I turn to wine anymore...
I had the same thing happen once, except it was with water instead of snow and he was seven instead of two, so mostly the same. He had actually injured himself, even worse. I waited for the authorities too, but they never came. I promise some day you will be able to laugh about it with a grown up him.
ReplyDeleteAll I'm going to say is....at least he was wearing clothes. Please don't ask me how or why I know to say that.
ReplyDeleteI'm not asking, but I bet I know 'cuz it happened to me, too.
DeleteSharon
Why don't you just tether him to a pole in the ground. That's what any normal mom would do??
ReplyDeleteAnd those videos you just posted to facebook?? How am I supposed to do my blog-reading when I've got a Freddie Mercury/Frank Sinatra throwdown to watch?!?!
Aw, Cari. Sending hugs, prayers and a virtual bottle of wine your way.
ReplyDeleteThere is some sort of Catholic conspiracy going on in which you are told "eh, what's one more?" and for some cuh-razy passion filled moment you believe it and then God tricks you and each one is harder than the next. WHAT IS THAT?????
ReplyDeleteBennet used to escape outside all the time. He figured out the deadbolts when he was 2 and then he'd be gone. Once he was in the car (all doors and windows shut on a sunny, warm day). Once he was standing in the middle of the street. Once he was wondering in the neighbor's yard a couple doors down. Now we have those plastic grip things over the doorknobs so that it takes adults 3 attempts to open the door and my kids can't do it at all. We'll all die in a fire but at least Bennet won't be hit by a car.
ReplyDeleteI've had a neighbor show up with one of mine, one who actually made it across the street. Terrifying and humbling. Makes you take seriously the concept of guardian angels. As for calling the husband, I've done it and my line is usually, "I'm getting a job!" You know, one of those nine to five deals that would mean clean clothes, use of my brain, appreciation for my contributions, all those things that seem glaringly absent on my bad days here on the home front.
ReplyDeleteMy most frequent escapee is now five and, at least for the moment, the sweetest of my brood.
Hang in there!
My SIL has had the COPS bring back her firecracker daughter, not once, but TWICE, once in only a diaper.. Still no CPS visit. It might be the bribes. Some kids are escape artists. Wotcha gonna do?
ReplyDeleteOh, man. You are not a bad mom. Not by a long shot, although I totally feel ya on this.
ReplyDeletePerspective: we live yards from an insanely busy intersection with maniacal taxis driving by at all hours. Once, Ezekiel made a mad dash for the intersection and was only saved by GABRIEL (his 3 y.o. Brother) tackling him while I frantically screamed from 20 feet away.
Also: Zeke has learned how to open our front door and now makes it to the gate of our apt building (near said intersection) in 20 seconds flat. He's done it 5 times so far. Someone pass me the wine. Better, pass me the tequila.
That is my worst nightmare right there. We have 4 doors. And we have a pool. Terrifying. So glad your neighbor caught him!
ReplyDeleteAnd people wonder why moms can't find time to shower...
I shouldn't laugh, but the retell of your stories post-trauma kill me. I will admit though that I blame my children for my feeling like a heathen of a mother, why they will get a Mommy 2.0 before any of them reach the teen years and why I have one billion gray hairs at age 34. It seems that just when I think "hey, I've got this mom thing down. I'm almost rockin' it.", all hell breaks loose. And then some.
ReplyDeleteI hope you enjoyed some type of wine or other mixed drink at the end of your day. Even if it is lent. :)
John-Luke sounds like he would totally get along with our Maggie. She's two and scales walls and takes off at a sprint if I'm not clinging to her with all my might when we're outside.
ReplyDeleteI keep asking myself when the "running off" stage ends... but it seems to be stretching on and on with this one!
Oh Cari... dear dear Cari. How heart clenching. Puts my story to shame about the "angelic faced ALMOST 1 1/2 year old" who threw an all and all out temper tantrum in the middle of Mass tonight, so that our pastor politely stopped the homily to wait for her to finish or for me to somehow manage the carseat with the sleeping newborn and carry the limp body of said screaming child as I "non-chalantly" walked past everyone while calmly smiling with burning red-cheeks towards the back of the church... as said child made sure to give the sign of peace or wave at each person on the way by. *sigh* I try to imagine that these moments are somehow paying down my purgatory debt for giving my Mum one hell of a ride when I was a child/teenager/twentysomething...thirtysomething... ugh. seems more of these days are to come to bring that debt toll down. Thanks be to God he's safe, though. And if it makes you feel better, almost all of the best "moms" I know have either had moments of losing their offspring or tying them to rocks and such. You're in good company!
ReplyDeleteMy two-year-old is somethin' else these days too. My latest war story is how he had a full blown tantrum in church, so I told him we could get our coats on and go stand in the back. So here we are, me holding his hand with a sleeping baby in my arms. We get almost to the back of the church and he suddenly decides he does NOT want to leave, throws himself FLAT on the floor and I no kidding have to drag him out by his jacket. Baby wakes up and starts to cry. To make it even better, there were those lovely first time parents in the back with their angelic baby sleeping peacefully in the carriers looking at me in horror.
ReplyDeletePrayers are with ya, sister! Consider him your one-way ticket to heaven :)
Tagged you, dear!
ReplyDeletehttp://everythingtosomeone.blogspot.com/2013/03/the-five-thing-thing.html
Your not a bad mom, just incapable of bilocation. St. Michael's prayer helps me when I'm besieged with the "I'm screwing my kids up". That and the great therapy fund I've started.
ReplyDeleteOh man, this so reminded me when I was doing dishes and the boys were in the backyard playing. Well, I realized they moved to a part of the yard I couldn't see so I went to check on them. They were fine so I went back inside to do a few more dishes. Checked on them again 5 minutes later and they weren't in the backyard and the gate was open even though we had an easy lock on it. In less than 5 minutes Clark had run to the playground a good football field away and Eric had CRAWLED two houses down and was pulling up the neighbors flowers. Oh my Lord I was counting my blessings that day and thanking the guardian angels watching over our family. We also got a better lock for the gate.
ReplyDelete