Playdate crashers, I have to tell you about my yesterday.
My husband is away for work and will be gone for two weeks. I hate parenting alone, but I was feeling pretty good about the way things went on Saturday, when we made it to a birthday party and to the store with no major catastrophes.
Sunday morning, we woke up, the boys got their breakfast and I settled Spencer in his Pack N Play with some exciting toys and Miles plopped down with my iPod Touch on my bed while I took a quick shower. The boys played nicely while I finished getting ready, I got the boys dressed in their Sunday best, and I gathered all of our things so that we could head to church. I remember looking at the clock at one point and thinking “Wow, I’m awesome! We’re going to be on time, if not early!”
And that, my friends, is when the morning spiraled out of control.
We walked out the front door (not the garage door, as is typical, but that’s another story, one that involves garage door cables breaking and us getting trapped in the garage) and I locked the door behind us. I got the boys in the car, which I had left unlocked the afternoon before. I put my purse and diaper bag in the back of the car and grabbed my keys — oh wait, where are my keys?
I began to frantically search through my purse and diaper bag, realizing that if I didn’t have my keys, that meant no car keys and no house keys. Which meant we were stranded.
When I was in middle school and high school, I would come home after school and be by myself for a while before my parents got home and I was prone to forgetting my house key, so I got to be very good at both jimmying the lock with a credit card and climbing through the downstairs bathroom window. I feared this past experience was going to come in necessary.
Two Starbucks cards and one insurance card later (and destroyed), I realized that my amateur burglar skills were no match for this door. The garage entry door is quite easy to get into BUT I had of course secured the deadbolt. My only options now were to call our landlord for an extra key or find an open window. I called our landlord and then set about looking for a window.
I found that our dining room window was indeed unlocked and after fumbling with the screen for a few minutes, I started experimenting with various outdoor toys belonging to my children to see which one would hold my weight long enough for me to reach the window. I hit the jackpot with the Little Tikes Cozy Coupe.
Playdate crashers, let me just tell you that it is a very good thing that the dining room window is on the BACK side of our house, because I was dressed in a knee-length skirt for church and that window is a good distance from the ground, even with a brightly colored car to climb upon. In between climbing attempts, I looked around at our neighbors’ houses, alternately hoping they weren’t around to see this and hoping someone would come to my aid.
After several failed attempts, I realized that because there was nothing but a dining chair with Spencer’s booster chair attached on the other side, I was going to have a long, hard fall once I made it through that tiny window. An arm, a neck, at least the booster chair was going to be broken. I had just mustered up the courage to go for it when I heard a beautiful sound, the sound of our landlord pulling into the driveway with the spare key.
I didn’t find my keys at first cursory glance around the house. I borrowed the spare key from our landlord and snatched the extra set of car keys so we could at least get to church and back, but I could not figure out where my real keys were. All during church, I replayed the last 24 hours in my mind.
Finally, Sunday afternoon, I sat down to go through the diaper bag one last time before losing my mind and that’s where I discovered my poor, lost keys — in a far, obscure pocket of my diaper bag, which had been with me the entire morning.
I know “they” say Mommy Brain doesn’t exist, but clearly “they” haven’t observed my life.
How about you? What are some of your most embarrassing Mommy Brain moments?