*Please note: With an awareness of my family’s safety and privacy, I do not refer to our children by name on this public blog or its Facebook page. They are being referred as Spock, Stitch, and Jack-Jack (listed by birth order from oldest to youngest). Though I may post pictures, I intentionally keep their faces hidden. Family and friends, please help me keep their privacy by refraining from using their real names in comments. Thank you for understanding!
Isn’t it amazing how kids from the same family can be so different? Our three sons are certainly distinct from each other.
Our oldest is quite serious.
Our middle one is dramatic.
Our third is… well, he’s a wild cat. If you’ve ever watched the Pixar movie, “The Incredibles,” then you know about the baby, Jack-Jack. (You can watch a short video about him here.) That just about sums it up. Thus, his name on this blog.
Yesterday was a great day. It was abnormally productive. Everything was going smoothly. I actually commented on it to my mother-in-law. That was my first mistake. I may as well have BEGGED for something to go wrong at that point.
I had just put dinner in the oven, the house was straightened up, the kids had been bathed, and we were ready for a dear friend to come over for dinner. Just then, I saw Jack-Jack pull a little stunt. I wrote a post about it on my personal FB page.
It read, “What would possess a person to sit on the arm of an arm chair and throw himself off backwards? And why, after said individual has caught his breath again from the impact of hitting the floor, would he think it’s a good idea to try it again? My name is Ashley. I am the mother of a two year old dare devil. One of us may not survive the next 20 years. (It is probably going to be me.)”
I closed my laptop and went to the restroom. Now, some mother’s speak of the bathroom as a place of escape. Escape? For a few seconds, maybe. But the big question is if it’s really worth it. I have learned that it’s not safe for me to loiter there for any length of time. SOMEONE is loose. SOMEONE can not be trusted to roam the house unsupervised. Silence is dangerous. Solitude is deadly.
That was mistake number two. I left Jack-Jack alone two minutes longer than I should have. A friend suggested that I get a leash for him. You won’t judge me too harshly for considering it once I tell you the rest of my story.
I took care of business, washed my hands, and headed back towards our dinning and kitchen area. I was rounding the corner into the dinning room and heard the microwave running. Jack-Jack was standing nearby watching and pointing.
Our microwave is on a shelf that he can reach since we do not have space for it elsewhere. Jack-Jack has recently discovered the “minute” button on the microwave and likes to push it. He’s taken to doing it when there are no witnesses since he knows that is a big “no-no.”
There was something different this time. I heard a consistent crackling noise. I ran over and threw open the door of the microwave. Inside there were not one but TWO little monster trucks on FIRE! Flames were shooting from both trucks and licking the ceiling of the machine.
This is where I have to brag on Spock because as soon as I yelled, “FIRE,” he ran into the room, grabbed Jack-Jack, and pulled him out of my way. The expression on Spock’s face was, in retrospect, priceless. It registered anger (he bought of one those trucks with birthday money), fear, bewilderment, and… glee (a. he’s a boy and there was fire and b. he thought the firemen might come).
Once the fire was out, I assessed the mess. Two of the wheels on one truck were no longer attached and there was quite a bit of melted plastic here and there (not to mention the plastic, toxic fumes I was probably breathing in). Our friend would be arriving for dinner in 15 minutes. This was about the time my hero came home from work too! I am always glad to see him but even more so yesterday!
The monster trucks are totaled. The microwave is dead. L has learned a valuable lesson that he won’t soon forget. This Mommy is thankful that no one was hurt in the process.
L is the kid that parents say, “If he had been the first, there wouldn’t have been a second!” Lord, help me! One of us may not survive the next 20 years. It is probably going to be me.