Disaster Averted

When Zach was around a year old, I stopped to get gas and gave him my keys to play with while I pumped. Just to clarify: this is not a good idea if your keys have a keypad. Zach locked himself in the car. Surprisingly, my five minutes of pantomiming button pushing did not get the point across to my very young son :). When that didn't work, I had a few moments of panic until I remembered my membership in the AAA Motor Club and dashed to the mini-mart to use the station's telephone. Let me tell you, when you say there is a baby in the car they come quickly! That was a good learning experience: keypad + closed car doors + baby = bad idea. Today's "learning experience" was much more distressing.

I tucked a bright-eyed Tommy into his car seat, and he gave me a great big grin before I popped his binky in. We had errands to run! With Josh and Ben in bed all day Monday after throwing up all Sunday night, our packages to-be-mailed and the nasty post office lines had had to wait until today. I went to load Luke, our mailings, and some bags for Goodwill into the van. Josh followed me out into the garage and climbed into his seat. I headed back to the house for Tommy and the diaper bag, and the nob wouldn't turn.

"Why not?" I wondered. Hmmm, what could that mean? And then the nasty truth hit me. The door was locked!!! And Tommy was inside the house! Honestly, I can't even count the number of times I've had to remind the boys to close the door to the garage all the way until it latches. They NEVER do. Except for today.

OK, don't panic, I told myself. This has happened before when Adam was out of town. The first time, it was a warm day and the back door was still unlocked, the second time, Luke was in the house and had recently figured out how to use our door knobs. Well, those solutions didn't apply this time. But, phew! I also remembered that my friend Lisa still had the key from when she watched Ruby for us over the Thanksgiving holiday. I dialed...no answer. Well, maybe she's at home and not close to her cell. I dialed her home...no answer. I dialed again...no answer. I dialed and dialed. Home, cell, home, cell. Still no answer.

I ran out into the backyard to check the back door even though I clearly remembered locking it. I ran to the front door. I looked at every window, and even after recognizing that they were indeed locked, I tried them.

Who was I kidding? When Adam is out of town, I lock the house down like Fort Knox. There wasn't a window or door that could possibly be unlatched. I was praying out loud. The panic I was trying to suppress would no longer stay down. Rational thought was fleeing. I tried calling Adam...no answer. Again. Again. Lisa again. Again. Tears falling. Pacing the garage. Stressfully rubbing my head, trying to make it work. Checking the obviously VERY locked doors and windows again...you never know, maybe I missed something.

I kept listening to the inside of the house, ear and palm pressed against the door leading from the garage inside. Like I could send him my "I'm right here" thoughts. At least he wasn't crying. I shook the door, banged it. It didn't magically open. Why didn't banging the door and rattling the knob help? Rational thought was long gone.

I called Adam and Lisa some more. STILL no answering. Hysterical crying. Poor Josh and Luke were watching me totally lose it in the garage. I think I was muttering under my breath, talking myself down, going over my options. I probably looked nuts!!

I called my Dad. You know you have a great dad when he's the one you want to call in an emergency if your husband isn't answering. He told me I'd have to break a window because a locksmith would take too long and probably be just as, if not more, expensive than replacing a window. Plus, it wasn't like I had a phone book in the garage with me to pick one out. Breaking a window was what I was thinking I'd have to do anyway, part of the reason I was trying to call Adam was to get his advice on which one I should go for. But my Dad confirmed it, and told me which one and how to do it as safely as possible.

I pulled the hammer off of Adam's tool rack and headed for the laundry room window. Then I thought, "I'll try Lisa one more time." I think it rang six times and then I heard her voice, not her voice mail, but her actual voice! "AREYOUANYWHERENEARMYKEY?THEBABY'SLOCKEDINTHEHOUSE!" I am sure I was incomprehensible, but out of my panicked, sobbing voice Lisa heard "key." I heard her say, "YES! I'm coming! Take some deep breaths. Are you OK?" I don't know if I answered. I think I might have hung up.

She was there like lightning. My hero! Lisa had the key in hand and hugs for the distressed and hysterical mom, and her hammer too, just in case. As we ran for the front door she asked how long it had been. It felt like it had been an eternity, and I told her a half-an-hour, but once sanity returned, my more calm mind realized it had probably only been about 15 minutes.

We got in the house and found this:
Apparently it wasn't much of a disaster for my little angel. I think he was just happy for the peace and quiet to catch a few Z's!

I was a wreck for the rest of the day: physically and mentally exhausted, nerves frayed, on the verge of tears. I had had a MAJOR adrenaline O.D. Even though everything had been fine. Tommy was fine. And throughout the saga, deep down I must have known he was. I mean, he was buckled in his seat belt, safely in our house, and all alone. Even Ruby was put in "her room" (our half-bath). The worst that could have happened: mad, crying baby. But even that didn't happen. Why was I so freaked out? I guess minor hysteria (who am I kidding, it was major hysteria) will do that to you.

Lesson learned. Locked door + baby + no hide-a-key = insane mommy. We now have a key hidden away in the garage. I am sure I will be locking Tommy in the house again tomorrow, but now there is a solution that does not involve me needing hospitalization.