This story is brought to you by the girl who always somehow gets herself into silly situations. This story has no moral lesson or insightful take-away.. perhaps except for the fact that Taylor watches too many FBI-themed tv shows. Read on.
A few weeks ago I was running around the house prepping to go out of town for the weekend. Despite what many may think, or really I should say, what I thought prior to having my own babe and staying home with him most of the week, the work of a stay-at-home mama is very full, very tiring, and very overwhelming at times. There are just so many factors to keeping a home and caring for the needs of a child. And I only have one. That's another topic for a more insightful day.
As I was scurrying to complete tasks for impending weekend travel, my mind was running in all sorts of places, my tasks were getting sporadically checked off, and my "super mama" story begins as I was taking advantage of the baby-free time that comes with morning nap. Now, it should be known that my little one is not the best of sleepers. He's more of the "don't want to miss a thing" type of social child (cue Aerosmith). On this particular morning he was sleeping like a champ, so I knew that every minute more than the last was a gift and I should be productive before he began his next phase of the day.
One of my tasks for the day was to water the flowers on our second story, no stairs to the downstairs, no access or windows except for the door off the kitchen deck, so I filled my pitcher and walked outside. You see where this is going. I closed the door behind me because my cat was trying to escape and I proceeded to water the plants ignorant of what I had just done. I started back to open the door and, you guessed it, the handle wouldn't budge.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
Harris won't be home for hours.
Nobody knows I'm out here.
I don't have my phone.
This door is completely locked and won't budge.
No. No. No.
For that matter, ALL my doors are locked to the house.
I'll wait for someone to walk by.
Ok, no one is walking by.
The neighbor's car is there.
I haven't met her yet, but maybe I can wait until she comes out, tell her our garage code, and have her come in to let me out.
Ok, she's not coming out.
Harrison is for SURE awake by now.
He NEEDS me!!
No. No. No.
Gotta get down.
Am I really going down?
Yep, I'm going down.
Yep, it's happening.
Here I go.
What the heck am I doing??
I'm SAVING MY BABY!
I'm COMING BABY!!
That's a little glimpse into my thought process as what felt like an HOUR passed on that deck. In all reality it was probably only about 30 seconds all-together. Still.
So I proceed to scale down the side of my home. I pulled a deck chair to the ledge, climbed up and threw my legs over the railing, shimmied down the vertical boards, used a cross-bar as a foothold on my way down, reached my other leg over to the top of the fence that borders our yard, balanced on there until I could jump down onto the top of the trashcan that was on the other side, then jumped off of the top of the trashcan. I mean, I'm basically spider woman.
My heart was racing the whole time, and all I could think is that he is in his room needing me and feeling abandoned. I typed in the garage code, ran through the door, ran up the stairs, only to find him sleeping as soundly as before. An-ti-climatic.
It's in this very moment that you wish you had someone there with you to celebrate your heroism.
"Did you SEE that?! That was intense!! I just scaled my two story house!"
So I did a little victory dance on my own to celebrate and then immediately called Harris to tell him how awesome I am. End of story.
[Full disclosure: I decided against posting a picture of the side of the house I went down for fear you might think my actions were less than AMAZING.]