So, that’s something I don’t want to experience again, well…ever.
I’m beginning to think that my attention to detail and focus that most employers love is not such a great thing in Mommy Land.
Because the weather has been so nice, Little Bug has been enjoying just about every waking indoor moment in our sunroom. I’ll admit, most of the time it’s either too hot or too cold out there for me, so I never last too long before escaping back into the main part of the house(and yes, to my computer).
She’s usually pretty good out there. She’ll play with her cars or with the cats, or just hang out with a book. Yesterday, she scooped a lot of the kitty litter out of the bin(Thank the gods it was the clean litter!), and distributed it about. One spot was a rather large pile that she was tracing in with her fingers. I couldn’t be mad at her. She’s three, and we had never told her not to play in it, we’d only ever told her to not touch the litter box. In our minds, that included everything that had to do with the litter box, except for the cats. In her mind, that included the litter box.
How I didn’t yell at her, I don’t know. I was just lucky to have a moment of clarity that saved us all from a lot more trouble than was necessary. She did have to go to her room for a while, so that I could calm down. If I hadn’t done that, just her normal behavior would have sent me over the edge, leaving me yelling, and her crying, followed my feeling like dirt and having to apologize and explain(yet again) why I flew off the handle. Once I was calm, we both went back out and cleaned up the mess(aside from the vacuuming I still have to do). I learned one of my first true lessons about the quiet child.
That, however, has nothing to do with today, other than the fact it involves the sunroom. And Little Bug going silent. I apparently needed to have a little brag before talking about today’s failure.
Today, I once again escaped back to the living room while she played in the sunroom. Buddy Roo was taking his first real nap in his crib. The cats were splitting their time basking in the sun and avoiding Little Bug.
Things were very quiet. It eventually dawned on me that they’d been quiet for a while. Uh-oh. I head out to the sunroom, afraid of what I’d find. I found two cats. I didn’t find Little Bug. Uh-oh. With it being so quiet, I’m certain she fell asleep somewhere. I check the basement, nothing. I check the kids’ bedroom, I only see Buddy Roo in his crib. I check our bedroom, I see nothing. I go back and check the sunroom, more quickly and more frantically, she’s still not in there. I check every room in the house in this same manner, I still don’t see her. UH-OH! Third time, now calling her name, not caring if I woke up Buddy Roo. Back in our bedroom, I finally notice the slightly rumpled blankets and their vague human form. I pull them back…and find her. I also woke her up, which had her mildly upset. I honestly didn’t give a rat’s patootie. She was there, and she was fine.
I had been so afraid she’d gone outside. I knew she hadn’t gone out the front, she can’t get that door open. The sliding glass door off of the sunroom, however, is another story. She can open that. We’ve been keeping it locked because of this, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how to unlock it, especially when said genius is three and loves buttons and levers. I was certain she was wandering the neighborhood, having a grand time, while I was racing around the house about to have my heart explode in my chest.
Somehow, she managed to walk right past me and go upstairs to our room, so that she could take a nap. This child despises naps. I think this is only the second time she’s ever gone up, of her own accord, and just laid herself down. Fallen asleep in random places? Sure. But saying, “Hey, I need a nap. I’m going to go lay down,” is not exactly a phrase we hear. Usually just the word “nap” brings about crocodile tears and wailing.
What was I doing? Sending an e-mail. I was apparently so focused on this, I had no clue as to where my child was, nor her state at the time. Holy. Crap. I’m still shaking. I’m probably going to be checking her every five minutes for a while. I’m also getting her a collar with a bell on it…and a tracking device, just in case I need to send another e-mail. Or write a blog post.