As I now have a very curious and rambunctious toddler and a very needy infant, I am finding that I have a fair amount of what we all refer to as our Mother of the Year moments. From Barrett’s first roll off of the changing table, I was inducted into the Mother of the Year club and life just keeps these moments coming.
I’ve decided that I need to do a better job of sharing these moments. If not only to make myself see the true humor in them, but to make all moms realize that no one is perfect {okay. I realize that not a single person has ever believed I am perfect but you get my drift}.
So, without further ado…
After a ridiculously ill-timed trip {a cranky babe and a crabby tod} to Village Pointe the other day, Adam and Barrett headed for haircuts while Jonah and I headed back home. A bit overdue for his nap, Jonah was in a less than delightful mood, which of course, was due to my poor planning.
My hands full of bags, I popped him in the Jeep. I dropped my purse on the front seat. And my keys. I shut the door and headed to the back hatch to load the stroller. And wouldn’t you know it? The back door was locked. OH DEAR LORD.
I ran back to Jonah’s door. Locked.
My door. Locked.
Every entry. Locked.
Sweet petunias. I’ve locked my child in the f*@$ing car. I’m officially certifiable.
Luckily, it was a Saturday. Luckily, my husband is a gem. And luckily, in all my disorganization, I still know where the spare keys are.
I stood there watching Jonah play with his car seat toys…and then begin to scream…at the top of his lungs for what seemed like four hours and 42 minutes. But. Just 15 short minutes {ha.} later, I was back in the Jeep. And Jonah continued to share his opinion with me until we reached home.
And you know what’s great? Four years ago, I would have been bawling. Now I just swear. Profusely. And hope that my children are no worse for the wear.