Out on the town

Man, I wish that I was the one out on the town. My boys are giving me a special glimpse into what life must have been like for Mama Houdini. Let me share some details. Last week, Ben was downstairs working from home. The boys were also in the basement, playing with their toys (i.e,-emptying every last item out of the play closet and across the floor). The front door and back door were each deadbolted. The garage was shut, and the boys cannot reach the opener yet. My sister Brooke had called saying she might possibly be stopping by to borrow some sugar. She knows how to let herself in through the garage. Having taken every safety precaution known to mankind, short of locking my boys in the room with me, I went to take my shower.

When I finished my shower, I heard the doorbell ringing. 20 seconds later another ring. Ben is not answering the door. I figure it is Brooke, but since I'm still in my towel I decide she can come through the garage while I find my clothes. The doorbell keeps ringing, so in my towel still, I go to the window in the boys' room where I can kind of see down to the front porch. I don't recognize the person who is down there. She has a hat on and she is holding a small dog. I figure she must be trying to sell something, but door-to-door selling with a dog seems odd, so then I think it must be a neighbor wanting me to approve something for our Home Owner Association. Zack is chatting with whoever it is through our storm door. The woman rings the doorbell one more time, as I am running for my bathrobe, since I figure I better see what is so important. They are now knocking on the glass of the storm door. After a bit over a minute of trying to get someone to answer the door (which seems like an eternity to me as I'm trying to piece the puzzle together), the woman opens the storm door a crack and calls up, "Hello?" I respond that I have just stepped out of the shower. She responds, "Oh, ok. I figured it must have been something like that. I found your little guy out in the street. I put him back in, and I'm going to lock your front door for you."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Parenting moment from HELL!

So, despite doors being shut, locked, deadbolted, enclosed by storm doors and with TWO parents at home, Zachary was out on the town. What a special time for him to discover how to unlock DEADBOLTS!

People, do you see why I have turned the locks around on my boys' door and lock them in while they are down for naps or sleeping? It is the only way I can keep their wanderlust at bay. Of course, once they learn to open their second-story window and tie their bedsheets together I don't know what I'll do. I figure I probably have another six months until they figure that out...

Anyway, that was last week. Last night it was a nice Indian woman who returned Zack from his sans-permission traffic play.

Here are things I am contemplating to keep him safe:

1) Cement shoes to slow him down
2) Bells for all my doors (which I am serious about doing)
3) Finding where I can get my hands on those ankle bracelets they use for prisoners on house arrest
4) Affixing a four foot pole with an orange flag at the top to all his clothes, so at least cars have a chance to see him.
5) Tattooing our address across his forehead

I don't know either of the women who have returned my son to me, so I am amazed that they figured out which home he belonged to. Of course, the minivan with the license plate "AM I MAD" in our driveway may provide all the hints they need.

I can only hope that these women have each had a child of their own escape at one time or another, so they realize how easily it can happen.

Have you ever seen a movie where scientists are trying to test and improve animal intelligence, and the animals get so smart that they eventually outwit the scientists? Welcome to my world.

When Zack got out last night, he had the foresight to twist the lock on the front door first. When I went to answer the door for my latest good samaritan, I had no idea Zack would also be on the other end, because he had LOCKED the door behind himself.

My sister Brooke is starting to sympathize with my situation. We had a picnic in the common area behind her house. Zack ran away four times during that picnic. He also scaled her seven and a half foot high back fence twice. Fortunately, I was there to grab him and pull him down both times.

For those of you who are familiar with Looney Tunes, here are the characters that describe my family lately... Maddie is the wise-cracking and quick-witted Bugs Bunny. More than once it seems I am searching for her, only to find her standing behind me asking who we are looking for. Andrew is the Tasmanian Devil. He is like a tornado of activity, and for a long time his speech was about as intelligible as the Tasmanian Devil's. Zack is the RoadRunner. The way that child is able to sprint off with such short little legs, it is kind of like watching legs just spin in circles like the roadrunners. I, of course, am like that poor coyote left in the dust. No matter how hard I try to outsmart Zack, he still wins... Ben is like Elmer Fudd, we want to catch the kids, but luck is not in our favor. Mylie is a sweet baby so far, but I am dreading the day that I look into the baby carriage and find her smoking a cigar and holding two pistols, saying, "What're you looking at, Lady?" with a gruff man voice and sporting a five o'clock shadow...

I may sound like I am poking fun at the situation, but in reality it all scares me to death. You know how sometimes you laugh so hard that you cry? Being a parent is a new spin on that, I suppose. It is backwards. All you can do is cry until you are far enough removed that you can look back on the situation and laugh.

Yesterday, I dropped Andrew and Zack off at a friend's house at her Mom's Morning Out program. Mylie and I went to the grocery store, then I stopped by one of my friend's houses for a visit.

When I arrived to pick up Andrew and Zack at the designated time, I enter the house to hear Andrew's shrill 5,000 decibel "I want my mommy! I want my mommy!" that he chants through his tears when he is disciplined. Interestingly (and irritatingly) he does this same chant when I, his mommy, am the one disciplining him.

I learn that Andrew had broken one of the rules of my friends Mom's Morning Out program (she watches six kids, plus her own two, so this rule is quite important for safety's sake). He'd left the basement where she was with all of them, to go exploring through the rest of the house. This came on the heels of Andrew entering the house earlier that day and locking everyone, including my friend out, while they were supposed to be playing in the backyard. I was relieved to hear that Zack hadn't tried to escape. Alas, that joy was short-lived as I was informed that Zack had bit a girl three or four times while he was there.

Sometimes I feel like I'm just raising wolves in kids clothing.

On a brighter note, Andrew read me a book yesterday. I am blown away by his reading, considering he won't even qualify for kindergarten until the 2008-2009 school year. My kids are too smart for their own good. The book he read me was "Put Me In the Zoo." Let's just say, after the week we had, it seemed like an appropriate choice...