Hey, everyone! Who got to inadvertently traumatize their children last night? Oh, just me, huh? Damn.
So yeah, we had some pretty nasty weather in our neck o’ the woods. L was already in bed & as I was reading J her bedtime story, the town sirens went off. I called Da Man on his cell phone downstairs (don’t ya love technology? No more yelling down…just whip out the cell phone!) & asked him to check the weather reports. Sure enough, a tornado was headed in our direction. He scanned the skies & didn’t see any immediate danger so we decided to let the kiddos stay in bed until it was necessary.
Fifteen minutes later, the sirens go off again. No more screwin’ around, we’re bringing the kids downstairs. Poor L, she was already totally in dreamland when I so rudely grabbed her out of her crib. Everyone got to chill on the loveseat near our refuge…the creepy closet under the stairs. This thing is the stuff of horror movies. Not too spacious with lots of pipes and unfinished walls, its sole purpose is just to reach the entrance to the crawl space under our oh-so-basementless 100+ year old house. Da Man had already prepared the space, laying down a comforter for us to sit on & gathering flashlights. We weren’t going to make the kids go in until we had to but once he started seeing hail fall outside, it was time.
J wasn’t happy about it but she went in willingly enough. L, however, was like, “Are you effing serious?” And here’s my wonderfully brainless moment of the day…I kinda shuffled along behind her, urging her to go in after J, trying not to look worried but still wanting to convey urgency. I have no idea why my brain decided on this course of action…WHY didn’t I just pick her little self UP? Because apparently in severe weather conditions, my brain is made of yarn & dust bunnies.
It’s itchy.
So L’s shuffling in & suddenly she drops down about a foot & starts crying. Right at the entrance to the Closet of Terror is a garbage bag-lookin’ pipe that goes down into a hole in the floor (you can tell how handy I am around the house, yes?) And since it’s made of something that looks like a garbage bag-like material, it has quite a bit of give to it. Ya know, enough give for a teeny tiny baby leg to get stuck between it & the edge of the floor hole.
Have you voted me Dumbass Mother of the Year yet? Because I have. Numerous times.
I felt SO awfully awful. I picked her up right away & put her down next to J so I could maneuver my big ass into the closet. I walk in & turn around to sit down so I can take the cat carrier from Da Man when I go falling through the crawl space entrance. Did I mention that the “cover” for that thing is little more than a piece of cheap aluminum? No? That’s because I DIDN’T KNOW EITHER. So let’s recap…I’m trying SO desperately to keep my cool because I hate nasty weather but don’t want to scare the kids. L’s already had the invisible closet monster try to take her leg off & now it’s EATING HER MAMA.
So I get my hippo butt out of the crawlspace and sit on one edge while resting my feet on the other side. We get everyone into the closet try to calm the kiddos down. Da Man’s actually using his noggin (so glad one of us was!) and he starts playing some music for the kids on his phone. I start making comparisons to camping and anything else I can think of to make the kids okay with being in a dirty, cramped Cave O’Creepiness. I swear, I was so thankful for the Harry Potter “cupboard under the stairs” reference that I would’ve gladly made out with J.K. Rowling.
My new girlfriend
We were only in there for about fifteen minutes and then everyone got to go back to bed. L didn’t even wake up with bad dreams but she does have a one inch scrape on her leg. That hurts my heart so much. I’ve probably made a claustrophobic out of her now since going in small spaces = losing body parts & family members to the Closet Monsters. *sigh*
I wonder how many other ways I’ll scar them for life.
Autumn Leaves & Sanity Thieves 