We live in a really old house.
1787 old.
The latches on the kids bedrooms are those old school wrought iron kind of latches.
Kind of like this:
Sometimes they get a little bit stuck, and the kids have a hard time opening them.
One of those times was about 3 years ago.
Number 3 was 4 years old, and Number 4 was 3.
They were up in their room and the lever part of the latch got jammed.
And they were stuck inside their room.
Unfortunately, I was downstairs.
Drying my hair.
For about 5 minutes.
And while I was drying my hair, Number 3 was having a full-blown, level 10, Code Red panic attack.
I wrote this a while back about Number 3. If you have an extra minute, read it.
He’s always been my sensitive, anxious, phobia-prone kid.
So anyway, when I was drying my hair 3 years ago and Number 3 and 4 were stuck in their room, Number 3 freaked out.
Big time.
Their room is on the second floor.
And Number 3’s solution to the problem was to unlock and open the window, which I had no idea he could even do.
He then proceeded to try to convince Number 4 to jump out of the window.
Thank God Number 4 is Number 4.
She basically told him to fuck off.
So I guess he decided to make it more appealing for her.
And as I walked out of the bathroom where I had been drying my hair and through the dining room which is directly under their room, I looked out the window, and I saw a blanket come floating down from the sky.
And then a comforter.
And a pillow.
Is that shit coming out of the window? And who the fuck opened it?
I have never climbed a set of stairs so fast in my entire life.
I was screaming.
GET AWAY FROM THE WINDOW!!!!
GET AWAY FROM THE WINDOW!!!!
About 25 horrific scenarios ran through my head.
“MOMMY! WE’RE TRAPPED! GET ME OUT OF HERE! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!”
I opened the door, ran to the window, and slammed it shut.
Then I lost it on Number 3.
And finally broke down in tears after realizing how lucky I was that nothing terrible happened.
This bedroom incident really didn’t help to build up his confidence.
In fact, it set off a pretty serious phobia. He’s got a major issue with being “trapped” in closed spaces.
He won’t go in an elevator.
If he’s in the car alone, he has to open the door a crack.
When we went to the plasic surgeon’s office for the broken nose, he ran over and opened the door as soon as the nurse who had left the room closed it.
And going to a swim meet where he has to enter a locker room alone and find his way out of it is almost crippling to him.
So yesterday when we got to East Hartford and pulled into the parking lot of the high school he had never been to, he started crying in the car.
“I’m going to get trapped in the locker room. How will I know how to get out?”
Because he’s also super shy.
Last week I sat in the car after swim practice for 2o minutes waiting for him.
He usually gets dressed in 5 minutes.
But some adult who “didn’t even speak English, Mom” was standing in front of his locker drying off. And getting dressed.
And Number 3 is so shy, that he wouldn’t say “excuse me.”
He just stood there.
For 20 minutes.
While the (apparently clueless) man who didn’t speak English got changed.
This shyness really hinders him from asking anyone for help.
So anyway, we walked into the East Hartford H.S. I walked him through the lobby and to the locker rooms. I opened the door to the locker room and gave him a gentle nudge.
There were a bunch of high school swimmers there volunteering who were trying to help explain where he should go.
Number 3 looked like a deer in the headlights.
Luckily a meet official came to the door at the same time and showed him the way.
I closed the door and hoped to see him on the other side.
The high school kids were all just staring at me.
“He has a little anxiety about locker rooms,” I said to them.
“OOOOhhhh. Poor little guy,” they said in unison.
I felt a lump rise up in my throat.
Number 3 made it onto the deck, but his eyes were huge.
He relaxed a little once he realized he was okay.
And then, an hour and a half later, he swam the breastroke. His final event.
And he got 2nd.
Overall.
He was a different kid.
Smiling.
Standing taller.
Proud.
And confident.
Really fucking confident.
In fact, he walked right into the locker room after the meet, got dressed, and found his way through to the other side.
All by himself.
Without even an unsure look on his face.
That may not seem like much to you.
But for this family, and Number 3 in particular, that is huge.
Yep.
Yesterday was a pretty good day 🙂
Now if all your windows aren’t childproofed or you think your kid can’t find a way to open them, make this Sunday your day to fix that 🙂
lol, awesome. I had a good time reading it. That would have freaked me about about the whole window floating blanket and pillow thing too. And good job on number 3 for making it to second place.