The other morning I was putting The Bean down for her morning nap. As you may remember me mentioning 1 or 8,000 times, we are on The Schedule now. Messing with The Schedule results in immediate dismemberment and/or death by me pulling your kidneys out through your eyeballs.
The moment I laid The Bean down, He Who Is The Most Annoying Dog in The World (right after our other dog, Turd-Eater Extraordinaire) began his morning ritual of bark at all the things. This normally just pisses me off and we all move on with life, but today the barks sounded oddly distant.
"Goddammit. Michael forgot to latch the front gate behind him this morning when he left for work because he is the worst human being in the world and is purposely trying to ruin my life. Now that stupid dog is probably down the street eating little children and pooping on the lawn of the creepy old guy."
Turns out none of that happened. Bear was just in the far corner of the backyard giving hell to the neighbor who has lived here longer than us. Typical morning.
Once back inside with The Protector of Great Annoyance at my side, I hear The Bean on the monitor; clearly still not napping. I tap on the video and am greeted with the face of my child against the camera. Let me be more specific, she was STANDING with her face against the camera as she was preparing to fling herself out of the crib. Perhaps she was on her way to play with Carl the wooden caterpillar or maybe she was looking for Elmo to hold a jam session to "Elmo's Song" and "Elmo's Ducks."
Either way, I ran into the room to prevent certain disaster.
I flung the door open and she knew she was caught in the act. The Bean giggled and gave me a goofy side grin as if to say, "It's OK mama, I'm cute and it's all going to work out."
That cemented it.
The child was scooped out of the crib. It was time to lower the mattress.
Right at this point, my face must have caught fire and someone shoved an ice pick in my ear. It is the only logical explanation as to why it was so mother-loving difficult to perform this task.
For starters an Allen wrench was needed. Not any Allen wrench...this Allen wrench. You know, from the crib someone else assembled for me 10 months ago. Thankfully I obsessively hoard Allen wrenches from the 10,007 pieces of IKEA furniture I've assembled during my lifetime and one fits. I undo all the screws I think are applicable to the task at hand. I guessed wrong. I undo all the remaining screws on the crib. The crib defiantly stands tall - unmoved that I've taken away ALL the pieces holding it together.
There is no discernible way to figure out what to do next.
Thank goodness for the interwebs (which I only remembered about after I had screamed all the curse words ever at the top of my lungs - it's my husband's go-to technique for assembling furniture and I was out of ideas). The interwebs told me to rip the crib apart with my bare hands. No really.
So I did and it came apart.
30 minutes later, the mattress was dropped, the crib was reassembled and I had calmed The Bean down from her tenth meltdown because I wouldn't let her eat Allen wrenches the whole time.
All this before I settled in for work at 9 AM...it was a long day.