Adventures in Babysitting

This morning was an interesting one for me. Two days a week, for sanity-saving purposes, I take Aaron to daycare. Those treasured Tuesdays and Thursdays allow me time to job search, go on interviews, get some stuff done around the house, and, like today, go get my hair cut. I wake up on Tuesdays and Thursdays a happy person, because I know that I won't be losing my temper on an hourly basis, fighting the stubborn will of an almost-two-year-old all day long. I don't think I'm a bad mother for those two days, because I think it provides me a breath of fresh air, since it seems that my son inherited his stubbornness, short temper, and hardheadedness from his mama. And when you put the two of us together for an extended period of time, tempers flare and he usually wins. 

So you can imagine that this Thursday morning (sidenote: yay Thursday! Tonight The Office and Grey's Anatomy come back!!) I was pretty much happy go lucky. Until I walked into Aaron's room to wake him up and get him dressed. HE WASN'T THERE. Um, ok, so the gate in the hallway was up, so there were limited places he could be. Guest room? Nope. Bathroom? Nope. Did he manage to sneak into our bedroom whilst I was performing -- er, morning duties? Nope, not there either. OK, he can't climb over the gate, so what's going on? I call out his name -- no babbling response. I start to panic. But before paranoia sets in, i walk back into his room. Why is that blanket in the corner? Ah ha. There he is, sleeping soundly on the floor tucked in the corner of his room, fully hidden from view underneath the blanket. 

I get him dressed, get his shoes on, and tell him we're going bye bye. (He waves at me.) Ok, let's go. Where are Mama's car keys? .... hmm, where are Mama's car keys? 

"Aaron? Keys?"

"teeeeeeees."

"Aaron, where are Mama's car keys? You know, KEYS? For the car? Car goes beep beep."

"Buh-beep."

"Yes, good job. Beep beep. Where are Mama's car keys?"

"Teeeeeeeees."

Getting nowhere fast, I scour the house for the keys, looking in all the usual places: in the sofa cushions, behind the loveseat, in the broiler (yes, that is a "usual spot."), behind the TV. Nothing. 

After a full thirty minutes of searching EVERYWHERE, (it's a small house, and there aren't that many hiding places!) I'm starting to fear a full day at home alone with child and no way to leave. The thought is petrifying. So I intensify my search. OK, think like a toddler. Nothing too high, so the keys are definitely below my waist. What did we do yesterday? We ran around the living room. Under the coffee table... no. On the bookshelves? No. Double check the couch cushions and behind the loveseat. No. Windowsill? No. Ok, what else did we do? Pulled out more toys from the toy box. The toy box. YES. The sight of that SAC keychain almost makes me cry. Hurry up, kid, you're off to daycare, and Mama's on her way to sanity.