Speedy

I write this sitting at my breakfast table with my recently returned, newly repaired trusty laptop, complete with new hardrive. I still have to rebuild all the bookmarks, so bear with me.

Bad Mothering Moment of the Week

I left the room at 2:54 (I checked) to go to the laundry room to switch out a load. Returned to the room mere minutes later, and Lulu was nowhere to be found. I checked the clock, it was 2:59, she can't have gotten far, I thought. The gate to the rest of the downstairs was closed, so she couldn't be in there. I went up the 1/2 flight of stairs to the kitchen, no Lulu. A scan of the dining room proved the same. I proceeded to the staircase to the upstairs, still no Lulu. Up the stairs I go, calling her name; I hear a faint giggle, and then her trademark squeal. Up to the upstairs hall, into the master bedroom, around the hairpin turn into the master bath, and there she is: standing IN the jacuzzi tub. Empty of course, but still. She was very proud of herself, and laughed at my worry.

I was wrong last week when I said it would be the 3 year old that would kill me: it will be this baby.

Moral of the story: Speedy McAustin goes in baby jail every time I leave the room. Period.