CALM DOWN????

Don't tell me to calm down!! My baby is locked in the car....with the KEYS! I WILL not calm down...I CANNOT calm down...

Oh, what a fun day yesterday.

After church, which is always a workout (it's very stressful trying to keep 3 kids occupied, calm and quiet in a Catholic Church with no crying room - holding them the entire time), we left to go home. Ahh, home. It was a little chilly yesterday, mid 50's but a wind that whipped right through you.

Most of the Ertel Entourage were there, all 7 grandkids, Mike's parents and Mike's sister and her family. We were saying goodbye (a feat that takes us a while!) when all of a sudden the door to the truck closes. Mike goes to open the back door and says with full dread in his voice...."Oh, no."

I look over, holding Alex, and it starts to sink in what is wrong. I look at Cole behind glass, sitting in the driver's seat...the keys in the ignition.

Dear readers, you may have come to think of me as a mecca of calm, handling three triplets at home. Somehow I may have given you the illusion, through the filtered postings I write, that our life is somewhat orderly and sane. While that is the topic of a whole other post, I am here to break that facade, here today. I am not great at handling things...especially surprises. So, what did I do?

I freaked out. I screamed at the top of my lungs, not caring where I was and who heard it. In the cold parking lot, the sound carried well and Mike immediately became embarrassed. "OH MY GOD!! MY BABY IS LOCKED IN THE CAR! YOU LOCKED THE BABY IN THE CAR??! CALM DOWN? COLE IS LOCKED IN THE VEHICLE! HOW CAN I POSSIBLY CALM DOWN. NO, THIS IS NOT OK!"

Yep, that was me...Frantic Frannie. I am ashamed to admit that I totally and completely lost it.

Poor little Cole, sitting there in the car, looking out at us looking in. Mike told us it would be fine, that he had a plan of sorts. I thought, okay, maybe he is going to try and jimmy the lock somehow. He's a pretty darn resourceful guy. I trust in him when we are in stuck places such as these. He thrives in situations such as these. Breathe, calm down...relax. The weather is chilly, so he's probably better off in there. It's not 90 degrees, so he's okay for a while. Plus, it's cavernous in there, plenty of oxygen for the little guy. I had to back away from the vehicle during the screaming fit, in order to not freak out Cole. Nothing worse than wide-eyed Momma on the other side of a pane of glass, screaming like a little girl, obvious fear on my face, to get him scared.

Calmly, I awaited to hear the outlining of the Master Plan.

He looked as though he was thinking, and I was glad. He walks up to the window, looking down at Cole...and says "Push the button, buddy! Push the button!"

"THAT'S YOUR BRILLIANT PLAN?! HAVE AN 18 MONTH OLD LET HIMSELF OUT OF THE VEHICLE? BY TELLING HIM TO PUSH ON THE LOCK BUTTON?" The dam broke again after that one.

So, that's what we did. After I calmed down, yet again, I had full confidence in my button-pushin'-lovin' son...as much practice as he has had on the TV at home, he should be able to accomplish this, no problem. Though it looked hilarious from an outsider, I'm sure.

Mike and then me, faces practically pressed to the glass, pounding on the window with hard raps and then full, flat palms smacking to get his attention. All the while, screaming, "PUSH THE BUTTON, BUDDY!" He was pressing buttons, just not the right one. He was consistently locking the car, which was exactly the kind of irony that currently fits into our lives. Our brother in law stood at the ready on the passenger side of the car, in case he did happen to get lucky and actually unlock the door, we wanted to be fast, but didn't want him to fall out of the car.

We kept trying to keep his attention. After all, he is 18 months old, he had a plethora of other buttons around the cabin to press , places to climb, not to mention there were 5 chocolate covered pretzel sticks right next to him on the console, just purchased at the church fundraiser. I am amazed he didn't go right for them and forget his mission. I was so worried he would fall into the well beneath the steering wheel and hurt himself, us powerless to do anything. Scary, scary thought.

After about 5 minutes of him trying and just missing, Mike decided he needed to drive home to get the extra set of keys. He left, and almost exactly 5 minutes later...Cole did it. He pressed the button, freeing himself from the car and us from our excessive state of panic. Okay, so maybe that was just me.

Mike's plan was actually brilliant, after all.