This would not happen if I worked

I hit send on this post last week a bit too quickly and it got messed up by BlogLovin. Here it is again if you missed it and wondered why the hedge trimmers were in my kitchen.

I wrote a post when Zach was a baby and got bitten in the face by The Biter in his class and ended it with, "this would not happen if I stayed at home." Well, today, Zach locked himself and his brother in his room and I had to use a set of pruning shears to get him out. This would totally not happen if I worked.

Mornings are not my thing. At all. I detest them and pretend they are not happening. I have a friend who told me recently she loved mornings. I began immediately doubting our friendship. Growing up I would get dressed in bed to stay in there as long as possible. I picked out my clothes the night before, not due to an issue of me taking too much time picking them, but to not have to spend any time selecting them in the morning.

My point? I am not at my mothering best - or anything best - in the morning.

But when I worked we had a routine. The boys would get up and start eating breakfast and I would get in the shower. About the time my makeup was done they would be done. So they would entertain themselves or Alex would play with them for 20-30 minutes while I finished getting ready and got the dog fed/lunches packed up/car loaded. We would be out the door around 8ish. On a good day.

Now, we don't have to  leave the house until 8:45. Glorious sort of, but they still get up at the same time. So they now have an hour, at least, of "free time" in the morning. The more time to get in trouble.

On the morning in question, I had decided to shower (it had been too long and my hair was semi-permanently in a french braid). As I am doing my quick mommy makeup Zach walks in with a toy from James' closet. James' closet is really both their closet's and where I keep extra Christmas/Birthday toys to dole out to Zach throughout the year. It has a child lock on it because I don't want them going in it. Obviously.

So I tell him, no, he can't have that toy and that I have told him repeatedly to NOT go in the closet. I take the toy, shoo him away and re-lock the closet.

Next thing I know I hear muffled cries of "Mommy! Mommy help!". I go to look and Zach has taken the child lock off the closet and locked he and James into his room.

His room used to be a study so he has two doors that open, hence him being able to use the locks. You can see what I mean in this picture of his very festive Halloween doors.

I was livid. And slightly panicky.

But since he was locked in it gave me a chance to calm down and decide what to do.

I told him that he got it off one time, to try and do it again. I needed to go put some clothes on that are not a robe.

He tried to start to cry but I calmly told him to suck it up and remain calm. I had to go put clothes on.

It soon becomes clear he is not going to be able to do it again as he has James helping. James is not a help to anyone.

I consider the option of removing the door handles (won't work, the screw holes are to the inside where he is) and taking the door off completely. But then I wondered if the doors would open enough to fit our small pruning sheers in there.

Yep. Worked like a charm.

The boys were free and Zach was in trouble.....

I told him he was something called "grounded" and was grounded from watching TV all day. That really made him start to cry.

This would not happen if I was at work.