Bad Mama Diaries, vol. 2: We’ll leave the door open for ‘ya.

So much for wordless Wednesday, this is just a little too disconcerting to save.

I left the front door open while we went to EPU.

Not unlocked.

Open.

In my defense, the door was locked and I clearly made the attempt to pull the door shut but it didn’t “catch.”  Of course that doesn’t explain why the security door was wide open.

I know that there was some herding that went on, with Grace of course, who wanted to pull weeds when I was trying to load her and Hope into the car.

The sad thing is, I remember thinking as we pulled out of the neighborhood how smoothly things had gone this morning.  We weren’t in a hurry, we running on time, everybody had breakfast, nobody had cried yet, everyone’s hair was fixed, took their vitamins, and I remembered to brush my teeth.  We were on a roll!  (I did hit the garbage can with my car as I backed out of the driveway, but it was in my blindspot.)

The EPU trip was successful as well, no screaming or crying at circle time (I’m so proud of myself).  Grace is in love with the new man-teacher, Chris, “he’s so beautiful,” she says.  On Tuesday there was a bit of scene as I tried to pull her away from Chris, so he had to walk  us to the car.  Today I discovered the only thing more beautiful than Chris: chicken nuggets and french fries.  A girl’s got to have standards.

So it was when we got home that I noticed the security door open.  I was surprised I forgot that.  I still don’t know how I didn’t shut it.  Then I noticed the front door, ajar.  Numerous deities, their mothers, and profanities later I peeked inside to see everything in the disarray in which it was left.  I retrieved the baseball bat from my bedside and proceeded to open all the doors and closets.  No ax murderers.  

Still totally freaked out, I prepared Hope’s lunch:  mashed bananas, butter, and mixed grain cereal.  As I sat down to feed her I noticed the spoon was white.  “WTH?”  I know I grabbed a pink spoon, we don’t even have white spoons.  As I move the spoonful to her mouth it registers, the new spoons turn white when the food is too freaking hot to feed the baby.

I almost called CPS on myself.

For the moment we are all safe and sound, everybody’s had lunch except me.  I’m afraid to make myself lunch, if I cook I’ll likely burn the house down, if I make a sandwich I’ll probably sever an artery with the bread knife.  

I’m still freaked out that I haven’t checked the attic.

I’m pretty disappointed in myself, I had a really good night sleep, I woke up in a good mood, all of us were in a good mood and we had a good time this morning.  It’s just not the type of morning that I’d expect to have had such a ginormous brain-fart.

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3 Responses to Bad Mama Diaries, vol. 2: We’ll leave the door open for ‘ya.

  1. Christa says:

    Consider yourself a teacher for those of us who will follow. You are guiding us in the bad things that will happen and preparing us to know we won’t be alone. You could even start a new blog for us all…lessons of an overworked, under appreciated, frazzled mama. You know you need another blog fix for the week.

  2. Jennifer says:

    Lesson #1: Don’t leave front door open when leaving the house for three hours.
    Lesson #2: The security door doesn’t provide much security if it isn’t closed.

  3. Susan says:

    Do you want me to come check your attic? When I used to do the same thing, I was certain the ax-murderer could be hiding in the attic for days just waiting to catch me off guard later. Oh yeah, and your neighborhood is pretty sheltered and safe except for the carmel corn-hoarding, gay hating mormons up the street. Ax-murderers were bound to find better targets before having to wind down your twisty streets.

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