Friday, February 8, 2008

Mother of the Year, Part III

Small example: How to Disassemble a Crib (So Your Toddler Will Never Want to See it Again)
First, make sure said toddler is sitting on his new big-boy bed to really hammer (no pun intended) in the idea that beds are bad. Then start removing screws from the crib without thinking ahead to the next step. Make sure that you and the crib are still in the child's tiny bedroom. When taking the last screw out, forget that the largest, heaviest side of the crib is poised to fall directly onto your toddler's head. Administer ice.

Big example: Three Minutes of Chaos

This one's bad, folks.

I was sitting in my living room trying to recover from a long school week while Jack played computer games in another room and Quinn was around the corner playing with pens and jabbering to himself. My front door was open, allowing the sun and neighborhood view to stream through the glass storm door. My dog, Cassidy, was milling about inside the house.

Or so I thought.

At some point I look up to see Cassidy nosing around the fence of the house across the street. "That shouldn't be," I said to myself. Well, actually I think I might have actually shouted something about "that motherfucking dog", but it's possible that I murmured quietly to myself.

Either the dog had nosed the side door open or Quinn had released her into the wild. I'm not sure which would make me more nervous.

Thinking I could run to get her and be home before anyone noticed I was gone, and also not wanting to let her get away, I unlocked the storm door and sprinted across the street. Our street is not very busy at all, but it would easy for her to run to a nearby busy street. In my hurry, I forgot to latch the storm door on the way out&#8212something I don't even forget to do when I'm just walking out onto the driveway to meet Jack's bus.

My across-the-street neighbor and her four kids where in their mudroom about to head out to their car when I jogged past them into their backyard.

Cassidy spotted me, knew the end was near, and took off running for the street. Halfway there she changed her mind and headed for the neighbors in their mudroom. Somehow she managed to weasel her way into the house (maybe it was her who opened the door). One of the kids banged his head on a wall recoiling from her and a couple of the other kids started screaming because their home had just been invaded by a large, hairy animal. I'm not sure it's Cassidy's fault that the baby started crying, but regardless the baby chose that moment to join in as well.

"Well, that's bad neighboring," you say, "but where does the sketchy parenting come in?"

So I grab the dog, offer profuse apologies to the neighbors and walk down their stairs only to see Quinn. Quinn who has spotted me across the street, pushed the storm door open, and walked BY HIMSELF across the street. Yeah, my two and half year old.

And to really drive the point home and ensure that I get the Mother of the Year Award? He was carrying scissors.


  1. You just can't make this stuff up, can you? I'm glad it all turned out with everyone safe. But I know that feeling. Oh I so know that feeling.

  2. Ah apparently my house is not the only place that it was mommy hell day. Misery loves company. Thanks for sharing your story.

  3. Ah, but it's made great blog fodder, no?

    I hope you are going to have a drink tonight. You should.

    No one's hurt, and that's all that counts, right?

  4. I'm sorry. I really am sorry. But I laughed out loud when I read he was carrying scissors.

    I know. I'm a really bad person.

  5. Dude. You need a night off. Here's hoping you're back on the couch, REALLY relaxing!

  6. Yes, but were the scissors pointing down?

    I hope you get some sort of break this weekend.

  7. Sorry I laughed.

    Like, hard.

    Cause that means there is someone else in this blogging world that is as human as me.

    I am reading blogs where women are so freaking PERFECT it is making me want to vomit. On my children. And take photos and send them to the Mothers of the Year.

  8. It is non-stop fun and games here in Stimeyland. I'm the queen of quality parenting.

  9. At least they were kiddie scissors. YM

  10. I am so sorry but I was giggling by the time I got to the end.

    Hope the day improved.

  11. Sorry, but I had to laugh. Because I thought that kind of thing only happened at MY house! Hope you got a break and maybe a glass of wine to make you feel better! :)

  12. is it okay that I am laughing my a** off? The scissors put it over the top. Of course, it's only funny because it turned out ok. When my son was about the same age he got out of the house. I had gone to the gym, and my husband put him in the bedroom with some toys while he jumped in the shower. He left the door open from bathroom to shower, but that didn't help. He found our son being stopped by a neighbor halfway down the street. When they asked him where he was going, he said "to the gym".

  13. You guys are right. It is funny. I found myself thinking about it later that night and I couldn't stop laughing. If it had just been him walking across the street, it would have been horrifying. The fact that he chose to carry scissors with him? Completely absurd.


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