Some mornings, it's hard to get out of bed. When Husband is on call, the head cold has set in, the kids didn't sleep... it's hard when LMC be-bops into your bedroom at 6:15 with the whispers of a child asking if she can please get in bed with you.
Part of me wants to say, "NO! Get the **#% back in your bed," but, that other side- that loving mom side that knows children are only children for so long whisper, "Go TT and grab your pillow." (read: too tired to argue)
She kindly obeys, grabs her pillow and pulls herself up into that warm oasis with her ice cold toes and curly hair and insists on sharing both your space and your pillow.
And then you know, you just know, there will be no more shut-eye for this day-- the Monday.
Admitting defeat around 7:30, I send her on her way to pick out clothes and start her day. Bennie is in her crib with her bottle whining, but not yet crying. It's Monday. Seems like every morning starts out as Monday. And this Monday, would truly be Monday.
Stumbling and bleary eyed, I made my way into the yellow bathroom with curses to those that thought yellow tile would be a good color to see first thing every morning. Suddenly, I hate the color yellow. Oh, this head cold- please subside. Looking at my hair, I admit defeat and start the shower. A shower will turn this early morning around.
And it does.
I can breath.
I am clean.
I brush my teeth in the shower-- something I love to do but save for special occasions.
I can't find my razor, but three out of four ain't bad.
It's quiet with the hot water running and I cannot hear those whines of the four year old or the intermittent cries of the ten month old. Slowly, the bleariness washes down the drain with the soap and the toothpaste.
I step out of the shower and shake off like a puppy out of the pond, wondering why I didn't grab my towel. It is 62 degrees in this house and I am naked. Naked, like birthday suit naked. Naked like jay bird naked.
I cut off the shower and there is a moment of silence before I start to hear the chaos outside my silent, steamy shower sanctuary.
My mother is screaming in her panic voice, "WIFE!"
(Why is my mother screaming at me... in my house. ohmygod, LMC killed Bennie. How'd she know before me?)
The alarm... wait, is that the house alarm going off?
The alarm... blaring.
My father, guns blazing- literally- calling for me.
Like Rainman, I scream the code to cut off the alarm.
"Hi?" with timidity from behind the door, I squeak.
They are in my bedroom and I am peeking out from the bathroom, asking mom for that towel hanging on that door behind her. Still naked-naked.
She's holding LMC who has on a skirt and no shirt. Bennie has her jammies over her head and hitting my mother with her empty bottle, both crying. Dad is asking me if I'm okay.
"Yep, fine. Good morning?"
"Who's in there? The police are on their way!"
As if I am being held at gun point in my shower, apparently by a toothbrush.
Mom hands me a towel and says again the police are on their way. I close the door and start to find clothes when Office Rollins knocks on the door.
"Yes, just a moment," -Where are my undies?! - "Just a second, I'm trying to find my shirt," -How do I have drawers full of clothes and at this moment I can only find underwear... where is a pair of pants? ANY PANTS?
"M'am? I need to see you. Please open this door now."
"Yes, I'm coming-- I just don't have a stitch of clothes on." This could not have happened two children and forty pounds ago. No, it had to happen now. Today.
"M'am is there anyone in there with you? Are you safe? I have a report of a glass break in there."
"Yes, totally safe- no glass break, just me and my 87 pair of socks and no shirt...... Found it, hold on-- I'm coming."
The door flings open, the cold air pouring in. My parents still standing there, looking at me as if I had snakes coming out of my ears. I had just gotten out of the shower and had not brushed my hair- how does your hair look when that happens? So, maybe a snake or two.
"Officer Rollins, what a pleasant surprise..."
"Are you safe?"
"Yes sir. I'm sorry."
He starts to inspect the house.
My father looks at me, "Don't downplay this. Are you safe? Did anything happen?"
"Yes. Totally safe."
Father and Officer Rollins start walking the house. My bedroom sliding glass door is hanging a bit precariously on the slides and it has dawned on my that my house was locked, my alarm was set and yet... my parents were in my bedroom. They got a call this morning from the alarm company reporting of a glass break in the master bathroom. They broke in to hear two screaming children and no sign of their daughter. Must have been a sight.
Mom tells me the G-U-N is under the covers, so don't be surprised.
(Mom, you can say "gun" in front of LMC)
Next, the G-U-N is on the fridge. Tell Husband, so he isn't surprised.
(Can't you take it with you? I'm leaving and apparently, can't lock the house until Husband gets home)
They are going to the hospital-- and guns aren't allowed there.
They are, however, allowed in my house, early in the morning. All for the safety of your children.
Turns out, that shower that blocked the sounds of the screaming children also blocked the sounds of the alarm and my parents breaking into my house.