In preparation for this, I went to bed early last night. I knew I'd need a lot of sleep to get off to a good start.
It started out as a pretty normal day. Olivia did her normal begging for snacks and screaming for daddy when I wouldn't allow her to open and pour the Cheerios or Rice Crispies box on her own. She ate a decent lunch and I put her down for a nap. She had fallen asleep in the car an hour earlier for all of two minutes and, therefore, decided that was all the nap she needed. At least she played quietly in her crib for nearly two hours.
When she got up, she wanted to call Grandma and Grandpa McQuilton. After she entertained them both, I took the phone and started talking with my mother-in-law. Olivia migrated to the kitchen. After a couple of minutes, I noticed it was quiet. I walked into the kitchen. No Olivia, door open....DOOR OPEN!!!
I ran down into our arctic entryway and found that that door, too, was open. Oh no. I looked outside to where her new bike was sitting. No Olivia. This was serious. I looked to my left. My heart skipped several beats (had it been beating anyway?). There she was - running after the dog in the parking lot across my street. Barefoot. MP (military police) quickly getting out of his vehicle to apprehend said toddler and partner-in-crime.
I run down the street with my phone in hand, "Patty, I'll call you back."
I grabbed Olivia, said a quick hello and sorry to the MP, grabbed the dog by the collar and started to breath.
"Olivia, you know how to open the door now, huh!?"
"Mommy, I say, no Nali, no outside. He go outside. I go outside. I say, no Nali, NO NO NO!!! Come ear, Nalie! Nali outside, Mommy. Nali outside and I go outside!"
She's barely two and she's already blaming the dog!
While I was pregnant for Olivia, Matt and I envisioned she and Denali being partners-in-crime. Wasn't that conversation yesterday?
The rest of the afternoon, she went around the house proudly showing me how she can now open doors by herself.
Tomorrow, I'll cart two kids into Home Depot or Lowe's and buy door alarms or whatever they have to keep my child inside!
Note-to-Self #256: You are not a bad mother. This happens to everyone at some point? Or does it?
To my DH (dear husband) - I miss you! I have no idea how I survived 16-months without you!