Monday, July 16, 2012

It's Gonna Kill Me

If you had driven through the neighborhood about half an hour ago, you may have been treated to the sight of a wild-eyed nanny, shrieking a little girl's name and running back and forth in front of the house, checking every end of the porch and side yards...

This phase the twins are rocking right now has aged me by about 15 years so far. It came about suddenly and has caused about 4 heart attacks so far to myself and I'm sure their parents as well.

It's the hiding-from-adults phase.

It's all well and good most of the time. The child latch remains on the door about 99% of the day, and so if one or both of the twins goes out of sight for a moment or two and doesn't answer when called, logic tells me they're huddled together, giggling that Miss Demmyn can't see them. And eventually they come out. Especially if my voice gets stern or I implement "the countdown".

Today was the exception. And honestly, my heart rate has not returned to normal yet.

It was nap time, and I sent each kid to his or her room to lay down while I finished bringing the heavy water bottles in from my car in the driveway. As I shut the front door, Sis appeared at the top of the stairs and announced she had a dirty diaper and therefore was unable to function until it was changed. I sighed, turned around to go downstairs, and grabbed her wipes from the living room and a pull up from her parents room. When I got up to the nursery, both twins were missing, (but Buddy obeyed!). I quickly found Brother huddled in the closet, grinning like the Cheshire cat, but no Sis.

Playing along for a minute, I searched room to room upstairs calling for her, looking in all her usual spots.

Nothing.

Maybe she snuck downstairs? Not outside the realm of possibilities.

Searched downstairs. Calling her name.

Nothing.

My voice getting more serious, I went back upstairs and re-searched, occasionally calling out a stern "THIS ISN'T FUNNY, TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE!!" to the empty rooms.

Still nothing.

Moving quicker, and calling even more loudly, nothing, nothing, nothing...

Finally I stopped where I was in the center of the house and called out her full name loudly followed by the dreaded "YOU ANSWER ME BY THE COUNT OF THREE!!!!!" that she never gets because she usually pops out by this point. All the kids usually will pop out when I use my stern voice. But not this time.

I reached "3" and could feel my heart beating itself wildly against my ribcage.

"Where's the last place I saw her..." I mumbled to myself, still sprinting around aimlessly, throwing open doors and tossing around blankets and other would-be hiding spots at random. "She was at the top of the stairs. Said she had a dirty diaper. Got diapers.... Water bottles... Wait, were the water bottles before or after...?"

Grasping at straws and panicked, I unlatched the door and hurtled down the driveway, calling her name. Think I scared the crap out of a neighborhood older kid who was coming down the sidewalk on his bike when Crazy Lady came running out of the house, almost foaming at the mouth. He swerved and barely missed ramming the mailbox.

(If I wasn't so singularly focused, I probably would have been quite entertained.)

No Sis on the porch, no Sis in the yard, no Sis anywhere...

I ran back inside, and without holding back, mustered every last ounce of voice and sternness mixed with panic I could and yelled out her full name followed by "YOU COME OUT RIGHT THIS SECOND!!!! NOW!!!" (I don't think I've ever gotten that loud with these kids before...)

This caused Buddy to fling his door open as well and add his worry to his shout of "NOW SIS!!!!"

As I turned to dart back outside out of panic, Buddy suddenly yelled "here she is!!"

And there she was. Top of the stairs. Looking quite proud.

After I got onto her about hiding and not answering when people first use serious voice, she had only this to say: "But... But... I like to hide. And I found a good spot. No one could find me!"

See? I'm not going to survive this phase. I'll be 95 physically before their third birthday, of this I am sure...