Sigh. When I became a parent I had no misconceptions about how difficult it would be; how it would change my life, and how it would impact my marriage.
We just had our second child. My son is now 2.5 years old and my daughter is 8 weeks old.
In the first three weeks my son evolved into the antichrist. The other day was a prime example.
Monkey (my son’s nickname) has recently learned how to lock and unlock the door. I am sure you can see where this is going. In any event, I walked outside (fortunately with my phone) to get something. I can’t remember what, but probably DnD paraphernalia I ordered from Amazon.
Upon my return I tried to open the door only to discover it was locked. LOCKED! I set into full panic mode. MY TODDLER WAS ALONE WITH MY NEWBORN AND I COULDNT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! The horror on my face seriously developed in slow motion and it wasn’t pretty. I could see the little demon through the window just laughing away.
“Monkey, please unlock the door.”
“Monkey, please? Mumma needs to check on Pixie (our daughter’s nickname).”
I wasn’t getting anywhere so I frantically called my husband on the phone.
You know what he did? DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE DID?! He laughed. Yes, people, he laughed. Then. THEN! He said, “The bathroom window is unlocked, I reckon you’ll have to crawl through that.”
Oh. I heard him snicker.
So, I carried my pleasantly plump self to the bathroom window, the ledge of which came to my tig ol’ bitties. I had just had a child (tis my excuse). There was no way I was going to be able to pull myself up and get through that window.
Monkey came into the bathroom.
“Monkey, can you hand me that stool?”
He has just started potty training, so we had a stool that would have put me up high enough that I would have been able to get in, no problem-ish. Naturally, you can guess what his response was, “No!”
Then. THEN! That little spawn of hell took the stool and RAN INTO THE LIVING ROOM.
I had no choice. I had to James Bond that shit.
It took me 8 tries and a lot of blood, sweat and tears (literally), but I finally made it up and through the window. I cried. Then I got angry at my husband for not having a spare key somewhere outside of the house.
When I got up off the tile floor I looked like a maniac, but my kids were fine and that’s all that really mattered.
Needless to say, I now leave the door proper open whenever I have to go outside since Lucifer hasn’t figured out how to open the second door into the house.