The Basement

I suppose we all have our bad days.  But from 5:00 pm to about 6:40 pm was a very rough patch for the kids and I.

Following my new parenting philosophy, "try harder," I had our after-school activities all planned out.  I had even explained them to the babe on the way to school so she'd know what to expect in afternoon.

The plan:

• water the vegetable garden 
• prepare pineapple for a snack
• play sports in the basement
• have dinner
• watch some relaxing and educational television 

I spent a chunk of the day cleaning and organizing the basement in preparation for our activities.  With the weather getting hotter and the bugs coming out of hiding, the basement is becoming increasingly appealing.

Basement activities:

• jumping on trampoline
• kicking soccer ball around
• bowling set
• baseball set (both heavily padded)
• practicing dribbling the basketball (our new toddler basketball net should be arriving this week)
• rocking thingy
• giggling in the tent

Our basement was gutted last summer after we discovered a mold infestation (good times).  Well, the renovation job wasn't top of the line, to put it nicely.  And after all the effort I put into trying to make the basement cleaner, safer and generally more appealing, I was reminded of how dangerous crappy workmanship can be.

Our plan was moving along smoothly and we were having a grand 'ole time downstairs.  The babe and I were kicking the soccer ball back and forth and the little guy was moving randomly from activity to activity.  He decided to join his sister closer to the washer and dryer and touched the sliding door in front of the washer (I was also doing laundry).  And BOOM.  The whole door fell off the track and came slamming down to the floor.  I don't know exactly what happened or how my little boy managed to not be crushed by the door, but today we realized, yet again, how precious life is.

The little guy was screaming, and the babe started screaming and I frantically tried to assess if my boy's foot had been broken and if we needed to go to the hospital.  His leg was scraped, as was his foot, but considering what could have happened, we got off easy. I'm guessing he must have moved out of the way (quick kid!). 

I was hugging both of them and telling them everything was going to be OK.  I called my husband at work and while I was trying to explain what had just happened, the babe started screaming again and threw the plastic bowling ball at me.

I've noticed that she freaks out when the little guy gets hurt and I have to tend to him.  This was just further proof that we have a jealousy issue on our hands and I have to be diligent in my efforts to give equal attention to both of them.  It's just not as easy as it sounds, especially when a door has nearly crushed your 17 month old baby (today is his 17 month b-day, and yes, I know, he's not a baby anymore).

Sadly the babe was a nightmare until my husband got home.  It brought me to my knees and had me wishing I could rewind to the afternoon when I was working on the basement so I could take down the crappy door.  I really should have checked how secure it was before encouraging our play date down there (especially as the kitchen cupboard just fell on me 2 weeks ago!).  Baby proofing 101, right?  

Your whole life can change from one minute to the next.  And I'm eternally grateful that this was another learning experience, and not a call to 911.