I Just Had a Heart Attack

Our doorbell just rang and it's 7:30pm. It's a little blue-eyed boy and there are no adults around. I answer and he asks if I can get his ball from our backyard. Apparently he's visiting his grandma behind us and kicked his ball in our fenced yard.

I run and grab my flip flops and then go out the front door with him because, well, we have no stairs from the deck to the yard. I open the gate and he says it's the big orange ball. I snorted to myself because it's the only ball in the yard. I tell him he can go get it and he shook his head no and said that he isn't allowed to. I think whatever and send Arabella after it. Now, I did leave Evan in the house, LOCKED behind the safety gate in the living room.

Arabella plays around throwing the ball back until it got close enough I could grab it and hand it off to the little boy. He hurries back to his grandma's without so much as a thank you. Arabella starts to run after him, so I grab her and carry her back to the house. I open the front door and she starts in with the wailing because "Hey Mom there's a potential kid to play with out back and you're the meanest Mom ever for not letting me stay in the back yard to play."

I no sooner sat Arabella down and I about died. There's Evan, wandering around the kitchen...UPSTAIRS. I am now thankful we taught him how to climb the stairs properly, but seriously kid, can you say heart attack? He some how muscled the safety gate open, climbed the stairs and was playing with Sissy's kitchen and then started running down the hall once he saw he was busted. I am not ready for this. He's my baby, he should be sitting still in one place right, not planning and executing his escape from the confinements of a safe zone in our home? Ugh. And for the record we were outside less than 3 minutes...