~my thoughts about life~

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Hiding From the Kids

Bright and early this morning, I was getting the boys ready for school.  As I was making my bed, my door slams open against the wall.  There stands a grouchy looking, pajama clad Baby Girl holding pink Puppy.  She doesn't speak; she simply scowls at the floor.  I know the seconds are numbered so I catapult into Mission Impossible mode.  (Cue theme music here.)  I bolt toward the door, scoop up the baby, and slide down the wood floor toward her room, all while making minimal sound.  As I duck inside her room and close the door, she finally becomes aware of what is happening and begins to protest.  "No, Baby, it's still dark out.  I will rock you." 

I carefully sit down in the rocking chair, well, after I pick up a pile of junk that was on it and quietly transfer it on the floor.  I begin a monotonous back-and-forth motion, hoping that she still has enough sleep left in her to doze back off.  I can hear backpacks begin zipped downstairs and hope that Baby Girl doesn't recognize the sound.  If she realizes her brothers are up, I've totally lost the It's Still Dark Out reasoning.  My only hope is to convince her it's still the middle of the night.

You see, the boys wake up at 6:45.  Their school starts much earlier.  I have the luxury of getting them ready and out the door while the girls are still dreaming.  After they leave, I have five or ten minutes to myself and then I wake up Big Sis.  Baby Girl usually doesn't wake up until after Sis is done with breakfast.  Occasionally, I have to wake her so we can drive Big Sis to school.

So this morning, the entire plan and routine was almost foiled.  One sure fire way to get me in a grouchy mood is to ruin my routine.  I'm not one of those people who has to have everything all laid out to be happy, but I'm pretty darn close.

As I continued to rock Baby Girl, I realized that the moments were quickly passing.  My aunt would soon appear in the driveway to take the boys to school.  I wasn't sure if they boys were aware that we had a Level Three Emergency and that I was in the Baby's room trying to get her back to sleep.  All I needed was one of them to come up the stairs doing that really loud whispery, "Mom!" thing.

The moment was now.  In one motion, I stood up, repositioned the fidgety toddler, and laid her back down in The Hole.  She was beginning to protest, but I covered her up and handed her Puppy.  "Go back to sleep," I whispered.  "It's still night-night time."  I maneuvered back through the door like an acrobat to allow as little light and sound in the room as possible. 

Downstairs, I could hear her muted cries.  The sun was peeking through the living room window and the boys were zipped up and ready to go.  Fortunately, Baby Girl's room is on the west side of the house.  It takes the sunrise a minute longer to reach her.

After the boys left, I stopped and listened.  Complete quietness.  I had been successful in my mission!  Still unwilling to go upstairs for fear of waking the beast, I decided to spend my ten minutes starting my daily blog post.  Yes, I'm at the computer, hiding from the kids.  It surely isn't the first time and certainly won't be the last.


Linda said...

Nice job getting the girl back to sleep. I was never so fortunate. Once their eyes opened, being awake for the day was a done deal. But how precious is that "alone" time.

Once when I was substitute teaching I had a day off after working/parenting/chauffering/cooking/cleaning/etc., almost non-stop for weeks. I was standing in my dining room and I heard a car pull into the driveway. I literally dropped to the floor under the table (cue Mission-Impossible music), crawled to the staircase, stealthily climbed up the stairs and peaked out the window to see who it was. It was one of my best friends. I stayed hidden. She knocked, she left, and I began to breath again. I sooooo needed that day to myself. I never told her, but I practically laugh out loud every time I think of it.

I don't know where you live, but $661 r/t to Hawaii is pretty good.

~she~ said...

I LOVE that story! I've hidden on the steps before too. There are just some times that you do not want to open the door. Under any circumstances!

Mimsie said...

Linda's comment reminds of the time my mom randomly picked up some binoculars and aimed them out our picture window at the gent across the street, raking his yard. The sun glinted on the lenses, he happened to glance her way, and he gave a jaunty wave. She dropped to her tummy and scooted across the floor, embarrassed beyond words. We laugh every time we think of Mom the spy.

Kimberly said...

Ha! I am so identifying with trying not to let little ones know you are up and awake. I SWEAR my kids can hear me breathe when I sneak down the stairs. All I want is a little uninterrupted Bible time, you know? :)