Containment and Peeing in Public: Opportunity Lost

 
A good friend came over on Saturday morning to install THIS:

Her escape plot is FOILED!!!!!!!!!

THIS is going to make my life so much freaking easier, I am almost doing back flips.   Maggie is not going to be able to run outside NAKED ANYMORE!

In the past few weeks, nothing will keep this child inside.

She knows how to unlock doors, turn dead bolts  and is not afraid to run full tilt down the street, her family just an afterthought residing in that two-story craftsman style brick behind her.

The neighbors probably think we have zero control over our brood, and honestly, we sort of don't. Particularly the two year old.

But thanks to our friend Hank, his tool box and this J-lock, we have more control than we have had, like, ever.

It's a good thing we live in a cul-de-sac.

Not such a good thing that there was a water-mocassin in our yard two weeks ago that almost bit Wesley.

Just ONE of the many number of reasons this two year old needs to be contained.

Oh, also it was pointed out to me that I was super-duper mean on my post yesterday when I stated that my brother was "pushing 40."   He is actually 35.  

I rounded up on his age and what I meant was that he is on the "latter half" of this decade to 40.  As am I.

I was using it as an illustration, people.  Sheesh.

He's still not getting any younger ladies.

Another thing I wanted to mention:  yesterday Chris and I ran errands ALL DAY and about half of that time I had to use the bathroom, but I didn't want to use a public toilet.

I realized that I didn't move fast enough on my Go-Girl purchase that I discussed a few weeks ago.

I was sitting in the middle of the Publix parking lot  ~ or PUBIX, as my dad likes to call it ~ waiting for my husband to pick up a prescription, and I realized that I COULD PEE RIGHT THERE AND NO ONE WOULD KNOW IT!

I was wearing my adorable Boden Denim skirt that I could just yank up a little.   I could just pee in the Go-Girl and not one person in that parking lot would be any wiser.

Totally freaking cute, right?  BodenUsa.com  

I'm going to have to order the Go-Girl pronto.

I better get back to my futile task of cleaning up the house.  It is futile because the two year old keeps tearing everything apart after I clean it up.

So I am really not sure why I am bothering with it.

I don't know how people do it with multiple children at home, I really don't.

 I mean, really, hats off to you.

It's about 2pm and I'm almost ready for vodka.  

Whew.

Thelma Minus Louise Moments and Broken Dishes

I wrote this earlier today, but had to set it aside and come back to it later. I was in the middle of a stressed moment, and I was worried that it had a desperate tone to it. I don't want to sound desperate.

I said the magic words super early this morning.

Usually they are reserved for mid-afternoon at the earliest, but I just couldn't do it anymore. By 9am you could stick a fork in me ~ I was SO done.

"Would you like to watch Yo Gabba Gabba, Maggie," I asked.

The response was wildly enthusiastic, as usual. She snapped to attention, did a pivot turn and ran (as much as a toddler can without bending her knees) towards the television set squealing with delight.

Parenting purists, or whatever those annoying people are called, are probably paling and feeling faint. But yes, at times I do use television as a babysitter. THERE. I admitted it.

And this was whole-heartedly, 100%, one of those times.

Chris has been out of town for four days, hence the lack of a "mental" break from the children. They are ALL mine. ALL my responsibility.

Some mothers revel in this kind of shiz and rise to the occasion, but honestly, it sort of freaks me out. I mean, it is totally up to ME to keep them healthy and ultimately, alive.

If I happened to check out and say "adios," or pull a Thelma-minus-Louise routine, there would be serious implications.

And folks, it's only 10:02 a.m.

And I am feeling a bit Thelma-ish day today.

I don't know how single mothers do it. Really. They are rarely given the props that they so desperately deserve. Seriously, they rock.

I was a single mother for a while and I fully believe that God blessed me with a dream of a child. Calvin was such a good baby and toddler. The "eleven and twelve year old" Calvin? Ehhh, not so much. But he has rebounded nicely and I couldn't be prouder of him.

Anywho, I hadn't necessarily recovered from yesterday. By the time Maggie went to bed at 7pm, my entire body was buzzing with the uncomfortable anxiety that precipitates the necessity of me popping a pill.

The anxiety was triggered by several things. For one, Maggie lost my driver's license.

I noticed how nicely she was playing with my wallet and made the erroneous decision not to mess with a good thing. Hey, she was quiet and occupied with something that wouldn't kill or maim her.

I let it go on for a little while, but when I looked at her again, I realized that she was taking each card out of the wallet and sliding them under the refrigerator.

"NO! No, no, no, no, no," I shrieked as I ran over and very quickly gathered the scattered contents as fast as I could.

Upon further investigation, I very quickly realized (as I got the wooden spoon out with the long handle) that there was no room to fit the handle. There was barely enough room to get a credit card under, no WONDER she was so quiet.

I fetched a long, serrated knife, slid it under the appliance and began fishing. I retrieved an insurance card, my hair stylist's business card, my Flagler County library card. I couldn't feel anything else and all of the credit/debit cards were accounted for.

It wasn't until later I realized that my driver's license was gone.

This wouldn't be SUCH a big deal, but I find that I am asked for my driver's license so much more in Florida than in Iowa. Got a doctor's appointment? Need your driver's license. Want to sign a kid up for something? Anything? Need your driver's license. They take proper identification seriously in Florida.

Oh, and I have "SEE I.D." emblazoned on the back of every single plastic form of payment that I carry in my wallet.

Shortly after the wallet incident, Maggie decided she was going to empty a cabinet so she could climb inside. Most of the contents weren't breakable, but she found the one thing that was and tossed it out onto the ceramic tile.

It was a large, Pyrex baking dish with a lid. Was. It is currently in our trash can in no less than 1,000 pieces.

Not even 30 minutes later, she had opened the dishwasher, found a salad plate to toss at the startled dog.

And so it went.

As I have been writing over the past hour or so, she broke another plate. As I was preparing her evening cereal, I heard the "clink" of a toilet seat and then some splashing.

"NO! No, no, no, no no," I shrieked, running to the boys' bathroom. Doors are supposed to be closed in our house, but the bathroom door was somehow left open.

But she was quiet for a moment.

Nothing good comes from a quiet 18 month old.