Wrath of Mom

Colin has learned a new trick. And by trick I mean a method to stop his mother’s heart, cause fear and panic in the Wieking household and bring out the Great and Powerful Wrath of Mom.

The boy has learned how to unlock the front door. And open it. And stealthily sneak out and run off into the yonder with nary a hesitation or look back.

The first time he did it, I heard him, told him to stop, ran after him when he hightailed it out of the yard, caught him, hauled his behind back into the house and said in my best Wrath of Mom tone, “NO NO! NEVER NEVER GO OUT THE DOOR WITHOUT TELLING MOMMY!!!” Stuck him in his room for a time out and thought that would do the trick.

Oh, it did the trick all right. Showed him just how to get a good ol raging reaction out of mom.

The next time he did it (same day, a few hours later) he figured out how to keep the door quiet. So I didn’t catch him until I realized it was too quiet. Luckily he was still in the front yard, barely. Repeat catching process, yell louder, administer a swat on the booty (don’t judge please) and proceed to time out.

We don’t have a deadbolt on the door (which is pointless since he can operate the knob kind) but there is a hole near the top that I was able to stick a screwdriver in to keep the door shut.

Throughout the day and evening I kept hearing the little booger try to get the door open. And when I’d give him the hairy eyeball over it – he’d laugh at me. Dude…

Today he pulled a fast one. Rob and I were talking about something to do with the move and we realized it was way too quiet. Of course we see the front door wide open, with no child in sight. We called his name – no Colin appeared. We ran out into the court. No Colin.

Rob started to look into the backyards of the neighbors and I took off towards the park, thinking that would be where he would go. Praying that he didn’t go the other direction towards the busy Boulevard outside our neighborhood. As I ran, with my heart in my throat, my biggest fears ran through my mind. I reached the park, no Colin. So I kept going around to block in case he went that way. I hoped that Rob had found him.

Sure enough. The escapee was safe in Daddy’s arms smiling like a lunatic as I huffed my way back into the court. The little turd had gone over to a neighbors who was washing his car. Gee, nayb thanks for giving us a heads up when we ran panicking out of our house and running out of the court.

Don’t worry, I didn’t wail on the little punk when we got inside. He got another dose of Wrath of Mom and tearful time out, then he got a big hug and I tried again to tell him how scary it was for mommy and daddy when he took off like a friggin idiot. And then I left to go to the store so I could fall apart in the safety of my car.

What worries me is that he thinks it’s funny. That he is too young to grasp the situation. That he has no fear or awareness of cars. That we are moving out of the relative safety of a cul-de-sac onto a corner lot that sees commuter traffic. We’ll be adding a deadbolt if there isn’t one already – preferable high enough to be bumble proof until the boy gets a lick of sense in his head.

RRAAARWWWWW. Here me roar. *sniff*