Thursday, April 10, 2008

Not even the Police could tame this child....

So today we went grocery shopping. Micah was much better behaved than normal...until we were ready to leave the store. He then bolted for the door and once I caught him tried to grab everything within arms reach. I should have taken that as my warning. When we got out to the van I let Micah crawl in and then proceeded to put Eli in his carseat. Eli has started protesting being buckled and so most of my attention was devoted to wrestling his not-so-little arched body into the seat. In the meantime I noticed that Micah crawled up into the driver seat but really, he had done it a thousand times before and the keys weren't in the ignition. So my thought was, "He can't really do much harm, right? I need to pick and choose my battles. This is one I'm going to let slide," and I continue to wrestle my now screaming baby. With Eli now buckled in and Micah safely inside the van I shut the door and push my cart full of groceries around to back to load them. (Do you see where this is going?) And then it happened, something I have thought about before but never long enough to truly, effectively assess how I would react when the situation was at hand. I pull the lever to open the's locked.

My first instinct is to reach in my hoodie pocket where my keys had been since exiting the store. My hand returns empty. Oh right, I had put my keys in my purse on the floor between the boys' seats in the middle of my battle with Eli. essentially I have found myself outside of my van, in the rain, with my two children AND my keys locked inside. One child is angry....very ANGRY b/c his mother has buckled him in. The other child continues to push the lock button....over...and over.....and over....while laughing hysterically. Micah thought it was the best thing on Earth. He hopped back and forth between the driver and passengers seats. He pulled everything out of the glove box. He found one of his favorite cds and chewed on it. He ran back and forth from the front of the van to the back...all the while his little brother is screaming to be released from his seat and for his mommy to pick him up and comfort him. And there I stand, soaking wet, completely and totally 100% helpless. You know, my life has felt like this a lot lately. Not in the literal sense, but in the sense that I am battling a little boy who desperately wants to be the one calling the shots. I mean, they don't call it the 'terrible twos' for nothing, right?!

To make a long story a bit longer, our van has a few electrical issues. One being that you can't push the unlock button from the inside. Oh, you can push just doesn't do anything. So apparently the police are willing to come "help you out" if someone is locked in the vehicle b/c that constitutes an emergency, other wise, no cigar. Approximately 10 minutes into this whole escapade the good ol' Goshen PD show up with a huge smile. (I wanted to kick him for smiling so big...Didn't he know how embarrassed and awful, I felt!?) After attempting to unlock my door for all of 45 seconds, he declares, "These new vehicles are really hard to break into. I don't think I can get it. Do you have someplace warm and dry you can go?" Ummmmmmm, yes I could march myself back into the store where it is oh-so-warm and oh-so-comfy dry but WHAT ABOUT MY CHILDREN!? He never once asked me if I had any other method of getting my kids free from my vehicle. He just got in his spiffy little cruiser and left. Luckily for him Andy WAS on the way....but from Nappanee and it would be another 20 minutes before he would arrive. I spent those next minutes contemplating how I would react when we actually got the door unlocked. Would I grab my child and cry b/c of how scary the situation was and/or could have been? Or would I grab my child and with everything I have resist beating him for what he had put his brother and mother through? Of course I'm kidding about the beating part but I honestly didn't know how to respond to him. It turns out that by the time Andy arrived Micah had wedged himself between the back seat and the van wall. He had finally realized the magnitude of what he had done. He put himself in danger and there was nothing Mommy could do to help him. So I stood there at the window telling him it would be okay and I would rescue him as soon as I could. In this case, grace won out. As soon as I was able to get my hands on that little boy all I could do was hold him close and cry. Beautiful picture of God's grace, isn't it?

Anyway, if you're reading this and think, "That will never happen to me. My child will never do something like that," all I have to say to you is good luck. I was that person not so long ago. Boy, God has a great sense of humor, huh?