Mother's Day 2011

With the title of the post and the usual subject matter of the blog, you would think that this post would be wrought with pictures of me and my two little ones enjoying a day all about me.

Well, you are wrong.

This post is all about how I earned the MOTHER OF THE YEAR award on none other than the one day a year when we celebrate those maternal idols we love in our life.

Kaeden is all about independence lately.  When I make his breakfast in the morning he says, "No.  Kaeden's turn!" and insists on helping with each step....at least until he gets bored with the process...usually 2 steps in.  For some reason this independence has recently extended to Kaeden thinking that he's the bearer of the car keys whenever we are getting ready to go somewhere.  He goes to the key hook and begs for the keys, and then follows us to the car.  He jumps in, sticks the keys partially in the ignition and then jumps in his seat to be buckled in.  Now...any good mother reads the preceding lines and sees red flags all over them.  You let him put keys in the ignition? What happens when he starts it one day and puts the car into drive?  Well....when getting your kid buckled into his carseat is generally a battle that results in some sort of bribery or promise of a treat if there is any sort of compliance, having a simple ritual which allows for easy transition from house to car is something that is somewhat welcomed.  Abeit possibly dangerous.

Kaeden's recent independence also leaves him unable to express himself when the confines of our parenting defies the boundaries of his independence.  In laymen terms:  Kid freaks out when he doesn't get his way.  Welcome to life with a nearly three year old.  I'm told the terrible twos pale in comparison to years three and four.  *Big smile, thumbs up* I can't wait!

So...moving on to yesterday.  As we were headed out the door to my aunt's Mother's Day dinner, I thought about asking Jeff to hurry and snap a few pics of me and my boys.  This was slightly momentous since I RARELY voluntarily step in front of the camera.  But, I was feeling a little bit cute since I had actually managed to shower AND style my hair in the same day, and I was suddenly hit with the thought that I don't have one single pic of my boys and I together.  Jeff had already gone out to the garage to load some stuff with Kaeden following along, and when the two didn't return for a bit I figured the moment had passed, loaded up Carter, and headed out.

In the garage, Jeff worked on getting Kaeden in his carseat.  I noticed the keys in Kaeden's hand as I walked around to put Carter in his base.   Jeff and I finish the buckling in, close the doors, and go to get in the front seats.

But the doors were locked.

And in a fit of rage for not getting his way (putting the keys in the ignition), Kaeden added insult to injury by throwing the keys on the floor right after hitting the lock button.

Jeff looks at me as if to say, "Click the button." When I give him the look of, "Our kid just locked us out.  And it's your fault."  Because it's always his fault.  Amen.

Realizing the weight of the situation [we have no spare keys because the car is a rental], Jeff instantly freaks out.  And by freak out, I mean he looked for the closest thing to break.  It's this really sexy thing he's does. Who am I kidding, it's the most aggravating, immature thing in the world.  Sometimes funny, but usually just irritating.  So while he's trying to slam his fist through our rental car, I start making calls.

I called my Aunt's house (where we were supposed to be) and while choking back tears say, "Both my kids are locked in the car.  Who do I call?"  I felt pretty proud that I was being rational enough to know that we needed to call a locksmith.  I didn't want to just look one up, and for some reason I rationalized that my Uncle Chuck would have a great referral.  Because you know... he knows people like that.  I felt like an idiot when the reply was, "Call the police."

My aunt was gracious enough to send a car full of guys over to my house while we waited for the cops.  Because Chuck might also know a few things about jimmy-rigging a car open.  Allegedly.

My cousin came to mostly provide morale support.  You know.  To allow me to heinously cry on his shoulder as a freakin' batallion of cops and fire fighters walked up to my garage and all I could utter was, "I'm so embarrassed."  Thanks TJ.  I know emotional girls aren't your forte.

So yeah, a firetruck, ambulance, and couple of cop cars were at our house only minutes after my call.  I think the key words that got such a quick response was when I replied to the operator with the ages of the children locked in the car, "Almost 3, and six weeks."  Before they got there, Jeff and I talked to Kaeden through the window and tried to coax him into unbuckling his carseat.  He tried and tried admist tears, but bless his heart, his little fingers were just not strong enough.

So eight men approach the car, tell us there might be some damage, and only a minute or so later have the lock popped.  There was a younger fire fighter that was talking to me throughout the ordeal, and as all the men turned to leave he asked me if there was anything else they could do for us while they were there.  I was kinda lost for words.  Ummmm..... what else do you have EMT's do while they are at your house?  Do they scrub toilets?

I kid.  He was nice.  I think he could tell I was so embarrassed, and he was just trying to make it seem like this was an everyday occurrence.  No big deal.  But still.  A little weird.  But not as weird as when the dispatcher, after telling her all my info, and what the problem was asked, "Are you willing to sign a waiver if there is damage to the car?"  Uhhhh.....do people really say no?  Like,  "Hmmmm... damage?  Yeah... maybe I'll just leave the kids in there for awhile."

Anyway.... it was a cool day, and the car was still in the garage, so there was no imminent danger.  Since Carter has a tendency to choke (especially while crying), we were worried he'd choke and be unable to catch his breath while buckled into his seat.  But he was okay.

The second the doors were opened, I grabbed the keys from the floor.  Kaeden immediatly started asking for them, and like any respectable mother would I looked him in the eyes and said, "You will NEVER touch these again."  But there might have been an expletive in there.  Allegedly.

And with that my friends, my proud parenting moment came to an end.

Happy Freakin' Mother's Day!!

P.S.  Is it bad that the entire time this was going down, I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me to grab my camera to document the "momentous" occassion?  Because I totally wanted to.  It wasn't like I was helping in any other sort of way.  But I didn't.  Because I figured it would be in bad taste.

Next time.