God Gives First-time Mommies a "Free One..."

... and I just used mine.

Dear Ian,

Sigh. First, let me start off this story by mentioning that it's one of the coldest mornings in Tallahassee this winter season. At the time our story takes place, it was 33 degrees outside with the wind chill making it feel like 22. And now the story...

You and I had quite a few errands to run today, and one of them was our weekly and ritualistic trip to Publix. Instead of waiting until after your morning nap and trying to cram that trip among the others into a 3 hour window (not counting time for lunch and snack), I decided that since we were both awake and "with it" that we should do Publix this morning BEFORE nap. And up until the end, it was working great. We coasted through the aisles, checking out the BOGO sales and gathering our tasty yummies for the week while singing Christmas carols and munching (you, not me. I am on the diet from H**L) on a cookie from the bakery. We checked out, below budget I might add, and headed back out into the cold to load up.

I want it known here and now that I was trying to be a good mom. I put you in the car first, so that way you could sit, strapped in, in the relative warmth of the car while I loaded the groceries in the trunk. I should also mention that our car is currently in the shop for an oil change et cetera, so we are driving a Nissan Versa. With a keyless remote. With noticeable buttons to push. Unlike our car key where you have to hunt for the key lock button. Yup. Somehow, you, my sticky fingered little son, managed to get the keys without my noticing. I strapped you in, closed the door and went to open the trunk (there's a magic button on the door that when the doors are unlocked opens the trunk without keys) only to feel it not budge. OHMYLORD! I tried again. I felt like my stomach had dropped into my cheap, Walmart sneakers. You were locked in the car.

Now, I am amazed that God can hear himself think when about a zillion mommies across the world are praying for their babies non-stop throughout the day about all sorts of things. Prayers to please stop whining, please go to sleep, please stop harassing the siblings... But he managed to answer mine: "God, please help us get out of this situation. Without a locksmith. Or DCF. Amen"

(again, I mention here that it is FREEZING outside) You looked up at me, keys in hand, and waved. Then you went back to happily mashing the buttons on that danged remote. The lock button. Sigh. So, we made a game out of it. Thankfully you could hear me through the window, so I started encouraging you. "Push another button, Buggie-man!" I was trying to keep the sound of hysteria out of my voice, so you wouldn't recognize our predicament. You did manage to push another button, but the button you pushed was the dang panic button. Now the horn is blaring, I am standing outside the car telling you to keep pushing buttons while you are cracking up in the car at the sound of the horn beeping. (I got Daddy on the phone about now, in case I needed him to quickly call a locksmith). People were starting to stare...

And then I heard it. The tiniest little click. God bless Nissan for putting the unlock button right above the panic button. You managed to unlock the doors for us, and the crisis was over. Needless to say, I got the keys away from you (by offering you a can of tomato paste to play with), and we loaded up and left. Holy Moly.

I am so glad that is over. You are happily napping in your crib, completely oblivious to my moment of panic. And all I can keep thinking is, "thank goodness it wasn't hot" and "thank goodness my child has a thing for pushing buttons."

Now I need to go call Miss Laurie. It's time to have the grey colored again.

I love you,

Mommy.