Locked out: One Chicago mom’s worst mommy brain moment

Let me set the stage for my worst “mommy brain” moment. We had just moved into our new house – our first home! – two years ago to the day. It was in the middle of a short street in the middle of a cornfield, literally, and we had about 10 neighbors total. I had a 2-year-old son and was somewhere around 30 weeks pregnant with baby number two.

As a blogger, I receive a good number of packages delivered to the front door and this cold and snowy winter day was no different. Still in my pajamas (and barefoot), I ventured outside to grab a new delivery. I heard Ryan, our son, follow behind me and thought nothing of it.

A couple of weeks before, our front door handle had broken off. As soon as I heard that door slam shut behind Ryan, I realized we were in trouble. How could I have forgotten?! MOMNESIA. No cell phone. No car keys. No shoes. Without that handle, there was no way that door was opening. I ran over and tried with all my barefoot and pregnant might to pry it open from the bottom corner. I was going to break that door off if I had to! I definitely had to. And . . . I definitely couldn’t. Ryan started to cry.

There was snow on the ground and it was a cold, windy day. Should I run over to the neighbors and ask for help? What would they even do? I hadn’t met any of them yet so what an intro that would be . . . when I say I was still in my pajamas, I mean it was noon on a weekday and I had on some fuzzy pink Hello Kitty pants. No shoes. And a crying toddler. “Hello, nice to meet you, my name is Emily! What a lovely home you have, could you help me break back into mine, please?”

I forgot that idea and decided to check the back of our house. I grabbed Ryan and ran (barefoot) through the snow to the backyard. I’m panicking a little bit more now when I come up with my plan: the window above the kitchen sink. I popped that screen right off and as luck would have it, the window was unlocked and I was able to slide it open.

Now . . . the window is about level with my head . . . and I’m nearly 8 months pregnant. Oh, and my toddler is cold and crying.

Eyes wide, crouched low, I whip my head in all directions, looking for something, anything, to help me through that window.

Thankfully, I was a huge MacGyver fan as a kid. I spot Ryan’s plastic toy grill. I take my hot pink fuzzy kitty pants over there, throw the toy under the window, climb on top (a major feat of balance for large preggo, I’m telling ya) and stick one leg through that window. Heyyyyy, party time!

Not quite. That window won’t go up any higher and my 25-pound baby belly is stuck and now that one leg isn’t coming back out either. I wiggle, I squirm, I maybe even cry. LEG CRAMP, LEG CRAMP!

Finally . . . BAM! I’m through the window, into the kitchen sink, tumbling to the floor and then rescuing my frazzled son from the back door. PHEW! One point for Super Mom. Zero points for Evil Door.

Since then, I would really like to tell you that I’m much better with my “mommy brain” now, but it has only gotten worse with the addition of kid number two.

Recently I was able to attend a local launch for Dr. Smith’s diaper rash ointment and I was asked to share my lovely story here. It’s funny because I’m thrilled with the product – it’s something I can use preventatively (you know, when I remember to use it!) and it gives this mama brain one less thing to worry about!

 *No unborn child was harmed in the making of this Super Mom story.
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