Barrett and I have a morning routine. It's good to have a routine. Following a routine helps with the auto-pilot I so often have to run on because motherhood = chronic sleep deprivation. So anyway, our routine. Our routine is I pick up my purse, my lunch, B's day bag and whatever else I need to schlep that day. I get them all balanced on my body and then I pick up B. Then I walk, loaded down with 40+ lb, to my car, which is often parked a block or two away. Upon arriving at the car, I open the back door and put B down on the back seat so he can scramble into his car seat. (I used to try to actually PUT him in the car seat, but that led to much yelling and flailing of arms and gnashing of teeth... and B didn't much care for it either. So we worked out a deal: I allow him to get into the car seat on his own and he makes sure the screaming is kept to a minimum. It's a good deal.) While B scrambles, I unload all my crap into the front seat. One time B scrambled right out of the car and tried to run down the street, so now I close the back door after dropping him off in there.
So anyway the process is basically this:
1. Unlock car
2. Open back door
3. Place baby inside car
4. Close back door
5. Open front door
6. Place crap inside car
7. Close front door
8. Re-open back door and buckle baby in his seat
9. Get on with rest of day
Unfortunately today we hit a small snag somewhere after step 7...
B has recently developed a love affair with mommy's keys. If he sees them, he NEEEEEEEDS them. Like "RightThisSecondOhMyGoodnessIfIDon'tGetThemNOWLifeAsIKnowItWillEnd!!!" :\ When it comes to parenthood, I'm a big fan of choosing my battles . I'll lay down the law when he gives me the "Mommy I NEED to stick my fingers in this electrical outlet" whine, or when he tries to climb on the kitchen counters to reach the knives, or when he's pretty sure his pacifier would taste better if I would JUST let him dunk it in the toilet. So, having fought all those battles already today, when he grasped desperately for my keys as I placed him in the back seat this morning I thought, "Fine. Take them. Have a ball."
With my car keys in his happy little hands, B started scrambling into his car seat. Step 3: check. So I moved on to steps 4 through 7. Close back door, open front door, place crap, close front door... and then I heard it: *Click* ... the sound of my car doors locking in response to my son pushing the lock button on my key fob. Worst. Sound. Ever.
The window of time that my son had to push that lock button (between me closing the front door and reopening the back door) was exceedingly small. We're talking 2 seconds, max. But toddlers are exceedingly good at doing the wrong thing at EXACTLY the wrong time. It's a special gift they have.
So now my child, my keys, and all my stuff (including my purse) are locked in the car. And I'm standing outside like a moron waving my arms and tapping on the window trying to convince B to push one of the other buttons on the key fob he so desperately loves. Except now he's realized that he's alone in the car and suddenly the keys just aren't that interesting anymore. So he shakes them around and launches them into the front seat. And then he realizes that he's not strapped in yet... so he stands up in his car seat, and he jumps up and down in his car seat, and he climbs over the back of his car seat (which is still rear facing) and nose dives into the center console in the front seat. !!! I was certain he'd come up with a bloody nose... or at least crying. But no. He popped his head up with the biggest smile ever on his face. Apparently trapped in the car is AWESOME when you are 1 1/2. Weeeeee! dive into the back seat. Weeee!!! dive into the front seat... lovely.
So I'm on the phone with AAA, (THANK GOODNESS my phone was in my pocket and not in my purse!!!) and they're asking for my member number - which of course I don't have because it's LOCKED IN MY CAR ALONG WITH MY BABY!!!!! And the lady is making my spell my last name like 10 million times while I'm knocking on the windows trying to tell B to at least dive carefully between the front and back seats. I finally told her to just send someone, NOW! and so she put in a call to the fire department. Mind you the fire department is around the corner from my house. Had I yelled loudly enough, I probably could have put the call in myself. But whatever. So AAA called the fire department and I hung up the phone with them.
2 minutes later, a GIANT fire truck pulls up and no less than FIVE MEN jump out. (I cannot believe they drove their GIANT TRUCK literally a block and a half. The drive was so short they didn't even get a full cycle of their siren out. It was like :::ruuuuuuummm::: <--- start the engine... :::rrrrr::: <---- siren wind up.... "Alright we're here!!!" Oh well.)
So giant truck, 5 dudes, baby running a muck in the car, and me. Apparently I was their first call of the day (at 9:15 am?? What a bunch of slackers the folks in my city are!) so I got a rose. Neat!! Luckily I had my wits about me so I could snap some pics:
B discovers mommy's stuff on the front seat.
Awesome firemen attempt to jimmy open my car
My rose!
So the firemen try and try and but they cannot, for the life of them, get my door open. They hit the unlock button with their coat hanger thing-ee but nothing happens, they get their coat hanger thing-ee around the door handle and pull, but that just sets off the alarm... Apparently Toyota has spent a lot of time and effort making their cars un-break-in-able. Which normally would be a good thing... except when your baby is locked inside. :\
So I call AAA again and have them send a locksmith. He gets there about 15 minutes later. Meanwhile B continued to enjoy his unchecked rampage around my car.
Here he is eating my eyeliner.
Here he is pretending to drive. (Much better picture when I press the phone against the window)
At one point, B found a nickle in the car and we all thought FOR SURE he was going to eat it and the guys were going to have to break a window and rescue him from chocking. They even got the tape out (to keep the glass from shattering) and debated which window would be best to break. B put the nickle in his mouth and we were all like, "No no no no no no! Don't eat it! Don't eat the nickle!!!" and he smiled and took it out of his mouth and we all cheered! And then he put it back in his mouth and we all freaked out again... and then he took it back out and we all cheered. We must have looked so strange to folks walking by.
We also tried (in vain) to convince B to push the unlock button on the door. We succeeded in convincing him to push all the radio buttons and to jerk the turning indicator and windshield wiper levers wildly but apparently door buttons hold no allure for babies.
At another point, B found his beloved keys in the front seat and we tried to get him to hook the keys onto the glorified coat hanger (so we could pull them out of the car through the pried open door). But all he did was grab the coat hanger and try to eat it. 17 month olds, it turns out, are pretty worthless when it comes to breaking into (or I guess out of) cars.
So finally the locksmith shows up and he tries all the coat hanger tricks without luck. I resign myself to the fact that my baby will be locked in my car forever.
Just then, the locksmith tries the "double door handle pull" trick. Which is to say, use the coat hanger to pull on the door handle, the car alarm sounds... then, pull the door handle AGAIN (within in 3 seconds.... which p.s. is NOT easy to do with a coat hanger!) VIOLA!!!! The door opened.
Oh thank goodness!!!!!!!
The whole ordeal took over an hour. But we all survived. And B didn't panic or complain once. He rules. I thanked everyone about a million times. (I considered hugging them, but 6 people is a lot of people to hug and I was afraid it would be awkward...) Then I belted B in and proceeded to step 9: Get on with rest of day.
The End.
(And yes, I know his shoulder strap is all wonky here... don't worry, I fixed it before driving off.)
Labels: maybe it's me, motherhood, The B-man
