Written by Kristen Pack
A couple of weeks ago I was working at my computer. It was relatively quiet in the house, a feature some homes enjoy but in ours it usually means one of our little blessings is either creating sharpie colored Picasso’s on the wall, “going for a swim” in the toilet bowl, or opening all of the yogurt cups and “taste testing” each one. Occasionally we’re surprised, but most of the time, well.. it’s just not the case. I winced, thinking about what form of catastrophe our youngest “curly-haired tornado 2.0” had conjured for me to have to spend the next three hours cleaning up. With it being a week before Christmas, in the middle of my busiest time of year professionally, pouring oodles of time into my church calling, creating all of the magic for Christmas to happen in our family.. it was three hours I did not have. Even as I type this, I can feel my heart rate increase. I turned slowly in my chair to see that the couch where she was sitting was abandoned, her sippee of milk turned on it’s side and her blanket, affectionately called “’Nuther one blanket” (because she has three and this is her favorite), crumpled in a little heap where she sat. I winced again and strained my ears to hear, searching for some sort of hint preparing my heart and mind for what was about to unfold. I took a breath again and slowly pushed myself away from my desk.
In the past decade that I’ve been a parent I’ve learned to be prepared for anything.. and by prepared I mean, have your camera ready to capture whatever weird/awesome/funny thing your kid is doing for the sole purpose of either posting to your social media circles so that others can commiserate or to pocket for later years if you need either proof or bribery. And so, prepare I did. As I pushed myself away from my desk I grabbed my cell phone and began stealthing through the house to find our little four-nado. As I walked into my bedroom I saw a light streaming through the master bathroom doorway and heard little rumpling sounds coming from the closet, followed by the words (which either could be interpreted as the sweetest sounds or some of the most terrifying), “She is going to love this.”