Blog Title

I had friends help me name this blog.  At first I wasn't sure about the name, then one of them asked me if I ever had one of those "laugh or you're going to cry moments".

I immediately thought back to when I left my then 12 year old eldest daughter in charge while I ran to the base mini-mart for milk.   

I had to run to the store.  There wasn't an option.  My husband wasn't home.  We needed milk asap.  It would take longer to get them into the van than it would to just go by myself. 

 She assured me she could do it.   It wouldn't be for long.  I just needed milk.  I hesitated.  She insisted she could do it.  They were all watching cartoons.  My daughter was going through the Red Cross babysitting course.  According to all laws and regulations of the state and Naval Housing, she was old enough to do it. 

The kitchen had two pocket doors, each on a separate wall, that enabled us to lock it off from the rest of the house.  Our Boxer was still being trained to not play with the new baby. To be safe, I decided to lock the dog in it while I was gone.  

As I left I thought, What could go wrong in 10 minutes?

They were so glued to the idiot box that I don't think one of them noticed I was home again. I did a head count: #1, 2, 3, 4 and 6.  Where was #5?  The 2 year old was missing.  A quick glance around the room showed he wasn't there.

"Where is paci-boy?"  (Out of all 6, he was the only one to get addicted to a pacifier)

Miss Icanhandlethemwhileyouaregone said, "I don't know."

"You were supposed to be watching him."

"I didn't see him leave the room."  She turned back to the T.V.

*deeeeep breath*

I needed to put the milk up, but I needed to find my son first.  He wasn't in the bathrooms, my room or his room.    Calling his name received no response.  I shortly had a small entourage following me "helping" me look. A quick check of the other bedrooms showed no sign of him.  My stomach began doing its "I'm going to panic in a minute" dance. 

 I decided to put the milk in the fridge and check every closet before I went into full-blown panic mode.  Sliding open the kitchen door I was greeted by a white dog.  My first thought was, My dog isn't white.   All the recycling was carpeting the floor.  My kitchen was foggy.  Wait, that isn't fog.  What is that?!  Snow?! 

"Hi!"

My eyes went to a widely grinning 2 yo with his ever present pacifier sticking out of his mouth.  A white-haired, very proud looking, grinning 2yo.  The ugly military housing gray floor was white as was the recycling mess.  My counters were white.  The cabinets were white.   The curtains were white. My entire kitchen was - you guessed it - white.

I was shocked. 10 minutes.  "What did you do?!"  

His face fell, and he gained a glimmer of understanding.  Mommy wasn't using her happy voice.  

The empty container on the floor caught my attention.  It formerly held over 20 pounds of flour.  20 pounds. 

My diapered boy was watching me warily to see exactly how much trouble he was in. 

I already decided Miss Ididntwatchhim was bathing the dog as her punishment. I had to make dinner, which is why I needed the milk to begin with, and now I had to clean up a huge mess.  Add this on top of the others stresses in my life at that point and I had two options: completely lose it or laugh.

I yelled to the others, "Get me the camcorder!"  I laughed my butt off as I filmed my son and his artistic endeavor.  I also made sure the flour was out of reach from that point on.

I'd love to say I reacted like that to all my childrens' endeavors, but that wouldn't be true.  I wish I had.  The "lose it or laugh" moments haven't stopped, and they don't include just the children.  They continue on and involve all aspects of our lives.  

So this title won. :)

If I ever get the tape converted to a CD or DVD, I'll post the flour video on youtube. :)