Before I begin with my story, there are 2 things you must know:
- My hubby is a great daddy! He really is so good with our children. He comes along side me and does anything that needs to be done to care for our children - whether it's kissing boo-boos, wiping noses, or playing hide and seek. He does it all and does it very well! Seriously, the only job I can think of that he's never done is breastfeeding, and I don't mind being the sole responsible party for that one. ;) So, as you read the story below, please keep in mind that I am in NO WAY criticizing my children's amazing daddy.
- The second thing you need to know is that caring for and supervising 3 children (ages 3 and under) is tough! I do it everyday, and it is HARD for me! There are moments of absolute chaos…lots of them. There are times when your patience is literally hanging by a delicate thread. There are moments where all 3 are crying or all 3 need something at the same time that they cannot provide for themselves. It's a constant juggling act where you not only have to supervise 3 children at once but you also have to figure out the logistics of meeting the needs of all 3 in a timely fashion…you know, before one of them implodes.
Be sure to keep those things in mind as you read. Maybe you'll get a little laugh. Maybe you'll shake your head and breathe a sigh of relief that it wasn't you. Maybe you'll change your mind about having that third baby (just kidding! It's the best! Really! …If you're considering a third child, maybe you shouldn't read this post.) One thing's for sure; you'll have a greater appreciation for stay at home moms (and dads!). :)
So, let's just dive right in. I had a training I needed to attend, and I was going to be gone for at least a couple of hours. It was the first time Hubby was going to be alone with all three children for longer than just a few minutes. (I had made quick trips to the store, but those were usually less than an hour. Most of the time, when I have to be away for any length of time, I'll take at least one of the children with me.) I was going to be gone through supper time and bath time. I told him I'd be home just in time to help put them to bed. I left him in charge with a few suggestions to make the night run a little smoother and a lot of prayers.
I'm not really sure what happened while I was gone. I did send a text to check in as the meeting was coming to a close.
About 45 minutes after the first text, I pull into the driveway. Our mudroom/laundry room is completely dark; the usually open door that leads to the kitchen is closed. By the outside light, through the window in the exterior door, I can see two little eyes peering at me from the dark laundry room. I smile and wave as I walk to the door, wondering what in the world my three year old is doing closed in the dark laundry room by himself. Upon opening the door, I discover he's not alone. My 18 month old is in there with him. I greet them, and put my purse and things down to find that there is a puddle of what I hope is water all over the floor. I step over it to open the door into the kitchen. When I do, I pause. I step into my kitchen. Slowly, putting one foot cautiously in front of the other, I survey the scene. As my eyes slowly take in the sights displayed before them, my mind struggles to comprehend what could have possibly happened in the two and a half hours that I was gone. On the bar, separating the kitchen from the breakfast area, I see bags of chocolate chips, tube of icing, cans of sprinkles, bags of various nuts and other baking goods. On the floor from the breakfast room (and as I'll soon discover -- through the kitchen, through the living room, all the way to the hall way -- literally over halfway across our house), there are are THOUSANDS of tiny white sprinkles -- the round, ball-shaped ones that are nearly impossible to sweep or vacuum because they roll away so quickly and easily, shooting to the opposite side of the room whenever they receive the slightest encouragement. As I walk past the play room, I glance in to see that there are sorting beads (among other toys) scattered ALL over the floor. It looks as if a toy box threw up in there. I keep walking. (All of this is happening in a matter of about 60 seconds, though it seemed to be going in slow motion.) Mind you, my hubby and daughter are no where in sight. I walk past the pantry to see that there are chocolate chips covering half the shelves and the floor. I keep walking. In the living room, DVD cases are scattered all over the floor (in addition to the tiny white sprinkles that I now see have not been contained to just the kitchen). There are also some extra chairs in the living room that the boys must've brought from the playroom, making walking through the living room akin to maneuvering an obstacle course. As my brain attempts to concoct some sort of fathomable explanation for all this, my dear, precious hubby appears from the back of the house holding our crying daughter and looking more than a bit frazzled. His first words to me, "Oh good! It's just you! I thought one of them had escaped." (when he heard the alarm chime as I opened the door) Excuse me?!?
So, there you have it. I'm still not sure what happened that night. I'm told that the baby cried pretty much the whole time and the boys were pretty much free to explore while Daddy attempted to quiet and calm her. Oh well! Everyone survived. Nothing was broken. The only things lost were the chocolate chips and sprinkles that had to be thrown away after they were swept (and vacuumed and swept again and picked up by hand). The house did, eventually, get put back in order.
Like I said, keeping 3 kids is hard work!
Follow up: I am happy to report that Daddy has been left alone with them several times since that incident and has done exceptionally well. I think the kids were just sending him through some sort of daddy-of-3 initiation ritual. :)
