Our Traumatic Afternoon

Yesterday afternoon was a ROTTEN, TRAUMATIC, AWFUL experience for me; the kids thought they'd died and gone to heaven. I can only laugh at it all now, but I can promise you I was not laughing at the time...hysterically frantic and panicked is more like it.

We got home from a terrible trip to Barnes and Noble: I'd promised them they could play with the Thomas the Train set (which, by the way, they have at every B and N I've ever been to), and when we got there, there was not a train table in sight (yes, a fit ensued), and then I dropped an entire grande iced latte all over the store carpet...humiliating. We survived, made it home, and got all settled in, so I decided to throw in a load of laundry. Our laundry machines are just outside our back door here in our Fresno apartment in a small entryway to the garage. The button on the back door knob must have been pushed, because when I closed the door to keep the nasty flies out of the house, I ended up locking myself out and locking my kids in...all ALONE! My babies are 1 and 2 and a half...they're babies. I stayed calm at first, but that feeling only lasted for about a minute. My first thought was to run to the apartment complex's front office, where I knew they'd have an extra key. I began my sprint (about a 1/3 of a mile) on the black asphalt in 106 degree heat, only to get to the door to figure out that it was after 5pm and they were gone for the day. I began the sprint back on blistered and burned feet; all I could think about was whether or not they were OK...were they scared?...were they putting themselves in danger?...ugh, my thoughts went to very, very dark places. I would've called 911 at this point, but my cell phone was also locked in the apartment. Halfway back to the apartment, I flagged down a random man in a truck and asked him to help me break into my apartment to get to my babies. I swear, I found an angel. He followed me back, happened to have every tool imaginable, and worked his tail off to get me in...he ended up having to use a power saw to remove the knob entirely...took about 20 minutes....an eternity it seemed. I also couldn't see either kid the entire time, as neither one ever came to the door in answer to my screams. At one point, I heard some giggles come from the inside of the apartment, and I held onto that for some relief/hope.

Now for the funny part. I bursted into the door, told my angel that I'd be right back, and sprinted straight for the back of the apartment (I'd last left Ellie back there working on going potty in the toilet). She came into view right away...popped her head out of the toilet, threw her sopping wet hair back (a la Ariel in "Little Mermaid"), and proceeded to tell me: "I just swimming, Mommy!" Are you kidding me?! This kid never even noticed that I'd "stepped out" for the last 30 minutes...she'd died and gone to heaven. Amazing to see how far a toddler will go without a parent around to give a gentle "no, don't do that" here and there throughout the day. The entire floor of the bathroom was sopping wet, flooded with toilet water!

Relieved that she was OK, I then began to scream for Charlie and search for him...I couldn't find him at first (panic!)...I eventually found him happy as a lark back in my bathroom eating toilet paper. Ahhhh, sweet relief for that baby boy...he's been working at getting to that toilet paper for weeks now! I swear, the whole experience was hell for me and Disneyland for them.

While I was chatting with my new friend (thank you, Russ Pittman!...if you ever need an electrician in Fresno, he's your man) after the whole hubbub, Ellie sneakily disappeared without me knowing. She'd gone back to her potty spot again to splash and soak her hair in the pot. I guess the toilet lid came down on her face during her swim, because I heard a loud scream, then ran back there to find her bleeding with a split lip. The little cut on her lip bled quite a bit, but the blood also mixed with the water, so it looked like she was bleeding everywhere! Thank goodness that didn't happen while I was gone; had I come in to find her like that, I think my heart would've beat its last beat right then and there. See photos above. What you can't see is that Ellie's top is sopping wet...and she is bare-bottomed. What a sight! What a mother Russ Pittman must think I am!