Just Another Thursday at the Vincent's

A story. 

 Don't you all love stories?  I sure do.

I've wanted to write this down- if for no other reason than to just remember it- for a couple of weeks, but I can't seem to say things in the right way.

This is attempt #456, and I probably will edit and edit and edit before I'm done. 

So, a few weeks ago on a Tuesday night Cecily, Nolan and I were getting ready for bed.  Or, rather- I was getting them ready for bed and counting down the minutes until "mommy time." We had teeth brushed, hair combed, pj's on, and all we had left was family prayer.  I took the kids in to their room and shut the door behind me so that Nolan didn't escape.  He doesn't sit still for any length of time, and I figure it's better to have him at least in the room with us.  Spirituality through osmosis.... or something. 

We said prayers and I shut the light off and turned the handle to get out.......

Locked. 

Inside the bedroom.

With my two kids.

Poo.  Mommy time postponed.

Apparently Nolan or Cecily had been playing with the lock earlier and turned it. 

And ps-this feels like a good time to interject this thought: What kind of idiot puts a lock on a child's room that locks from the outside?  Isn't that a fire hazard or something? And not even the kind where you can stick a nail in the hole and pop the lock.  No, the genius's who lived here before us decided a turn lock with a KEY hole was appropriate.  For real?  

So anyway,

 I turned the lights back on and (much to the kids joy and excitement) tried and tried to fiddle with the lock to no avail. I took the pins out of the hinges on the door and tried to take the entire door off.  That was a no go too, my friends.  Plan C was the window.  Not my fave, but oh well. I scraped up my tummy and arms trying to wiggle my way out and not break my ankle in the process.  It was only a 3-4 foot drop, but still.  I ran around to the back door which was left unlocked from playing outside earlier that afternoon.  Hooray!  Problem solved.

Until Thursday morning. 

Let me just say that Thursdays are usually high stress days around the Vincent house.  After 3 days without dad, the kids (and especially the mom) get semi-cuckoo. 

Cecily has been participating in a little Joy School here in Billings and it was her last day. 

It started at 9:30am and the house it was at was about 15 minutes away.

Around 9:00 I was in the middle of getting dressed, running late, and trying desperately to get the kids fed, happy, and in clothing.

I was wrestling with Nolan trying to pull his pants up when I look over at Cecily and as she is pulling the door shut behind her she says to me "Heehee, mommy I just want us to be trapp-ted again!"

Door locked.  Again.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNND,

  I was in my underwear. 

I'll say that again, just for emphasis:  in my underwear.

But, here's where I get stuck writing the story. 

I'd honestly prefer not remember what happened next.

I wish I could say that I laughed and dealt with the situation and we all went on our merry way.

But, instead here's the truth: 

I went ballistic.  Crazy.  Off the wall.  Certifiable.  Nutso.

Oh, how I wish it wasn't so.

I suddenly turned into a Mr. Hyde version of myself and started screaming at Cecily.

She didn't deserve it and I am

Oh. So. Sorry.

SO Sorry.

No matter how stressed I am I should not have yelled the way I did. 

She was scared.

I have a sinking, sick feeling even thinking about it.

No, I didn't hit her or spank her or do any long term damage, but a 3 year old should not be terrified of her mommy.  That's just not ok.

So, anyway- moving on.

Again, I tried to get the lock open and the door off the hinges, but again- I did not succeed.

Guess what happened next?

I climbed out the window in my underwear.

I'll say that again, just for emphasis: out the window. in my underwear.

And the hilarious part? 

Both front and back door were locked since we hadn't been outside yet that day.

So, there I was, breaking in to my back door while wearing my skivvy's. Yikes.

It took a while, but eventually I was able to open the back door and run to my babies room hoping against hope that Nolan hadn't climbed up on something and tried to dive out the wide open window.

All was well, and we even made it to Joy School (albeit an hour late).

I called my mom and sister and cried.

I actually cried enough to warrant an impromptu trip to Billings by my parents.

How nice are they?

All the other people I've told about my locked door debacle have laughed.

Did you laugh?

I hope you did.  I hope I can laugh soon, too.

I hope that by writing this down I can acknowledge, forgive myself, and move on.

And ps- I apologised to Cecily and she told me that she forgives me.

I just love that little thing.

Post Script:  I hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable that I share really personal stuff on the internet.  If it does, uuuuuhhhhhhhhh...... don't read?