Long story slightly shorter: locked myself out of the house Wednesday...while Gabe was still inside. You won't believe me, but it really wasn't my fault. After 10 min of trying to teach Gabe how to open the back door, I gave up and frantically started knocking on the doors to every one of our 18 neighbor's. Finally had a kind elderly women answer in her bathrobe and was able to borrow her key to the storage area. I remembered leaving our window open from the night before (come now, I'm pregnant and everyone knows our place is ridiculously hot) and hoped to find a ladder in the storage area. 4 storage rooms and no ladder later, I proceeded to open our storage cage, empty our very large blue bins (which had boxes of my teacher books in them...oh and there were piles of wood stacked on top of the bins):
And drag them outside through our courtyard, through my poor neighbor's yard (thank goodness she wasn't home) and under our bedroom window. My 7 month pregnant self stacked them end to end, climbed on up, shimmied open the screen, storm and glass pieces on the window and crawled on into our home. What did Gabe do in the 40 min it took me to accomplish this? Played with tupperware in the kitchen. Praise the Lord for small graces.
Good news: Basketcase emotions and adrenaline rush kept me warm in the sub-zero Chicago weather. Our small group is reading 'No More Perfect Mom' go me for busting through that barrier. AND it turns out my mom did the same thing when I was Gabe's age...like mother like daughter?
I'm pregnant, I'm blond, I accept the consequences. I am currently considering a reenactment for the sake of pictures. We'll see.
You may not be perfect, but you're awesome ;)
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