Waiting for a knock on the door...

I've been worried lately what the neighbors think about all of Ian's little tantrums. Any given day at any given time, there are blood curdling screams coming from our house. Add to that Owen the escape artist and I'm sure that DCFS will be knocking on the door any day now.

Monday Ian and Owen were playing in the backyard. I had made sure all the gates were locked and I had the back door open so I could see them and hear them. I was busy in the kitchen when I noticed Ian hit Owen across the face. I marched him inside and up to his room to "time-out". I held the door closed for about five minutes until the door bell ring. I answered the door to see a stranger holding Owen. He had climbed the fence and was playing in the very busy road. To top it off, he was covered in marker and Ian was SCREAMING upstairs. I'm sure I looked like a fabulous mom.

Wednesday I am sitting in my front room busy working on FHE kits for the service auction. The kids were downstairs watching Igor. I look out the window and I watch as a neighbor slowly drives by my house, flips around and drives by again and then finally pulls into my driveway. "I'm being a nosy neighbor" she says, "but Owen is in the road" WHAT??? The doors were all locked but apparently he can escape from that too.

Thursday, I'm in my room folding clothes and Ian and Owen are HAPPILY playing in their room next door. I emphasize happily because Ian was laughing and playing instead of screaming and crying which has become his norm. I was thinking to myself how wonderful it felt to hear laughter coming from him. I went in to get them in their jammies when I notice Ian's hair is bright red. Crap! I think... Ian found the koolaid powder! I look around for the mess I'm sure I have to clean up when I notice bloody hand prints on the wall...Ian is bleeding. I look over his head for the wound but can't find it because there is so much blood. Long story short, I end up taking Ian to the same after hours office that I took Owen to in January. The receptions asks "weren't you just in here for this same thing not too long ago?" And imagin their surprise when I said "I have no idea how or when it happened". Ian did not cry. Not a single peep. I don't have a clue although there was a patch of blood on the edge of the door about his height up. But still...did he fall, did Owen slam the door, how the crap did it happen? No staples this time. Although he needed them, he put up a fight and the doctor decided he'd be ok without them.

So, yes, crown me bad mother of the year already! Just be sure to vouch for me when someone calls the state on me!