We went to see "The Dark Knight Rises" recently. I LOVE Christian Bale. Perhaps even more than Anthony (jokes my darling). During the trailers, they showed a preview for Superman-Man of Steel. As our movie began, I noticed for the first time one contrast between Superman and Batman I never really noticed before. I pretty much just lumped them all into the "Superhero" category, but with different outfits.
What I noticed was Superman is naturally strong. He is inhumanly strong. He was born to be a Superhero.
Batman is completely human. He isn't exceptionally strong. He gets wounded like the rest of us, and several scenes in the movie show his scarred body. He wasn't born a Superhero, he has to work hard at it and has a whole host of crazy gadgets and vehicles to assist his work.
It was the scars I noticed most. They really showed the vulnerability of Batman. I didn't find them ugly though, they are evidence of his work as a hero.
I have scars too - we all do. I have them on my back, neck, shoulder, abdomen, knuckles, foot, and ribs. I used to find the big scar down my back a little ugly. I don't wear overly revealing clothes anyway, but I was happy that they weren't on show.
I can honestly say that I have no shame in my scars now though. They are definitely not evidence of a hero's life (unless eating chocolate on the couch at night is considered heroic), but they are evidence that I have lived a full life. A life full of a variety of different experiences - the way life is intended to be.
My scars are proof I have experienced pain through injury and sickness. They are proof I have experienced joy through the c-sections I had to give birth to our sons. I have scars that make me grateful for modern medicine and the blessing it is in my life. I have scars that remind me of being too impulsive and perhaps acting before thinking. I have scars that remind me of my faith in prayer to overcome disease and illness.
I have other scars too, some that cannot be seen. Different experiences in my life have caused small scars in me I think, not visible scars, but they are there all the same. These scars we generally hold dear to our hearts. These scars are reminders of difficulties we have all experienced and overcome.
My scars are proof that I have lived, and they are not ugly to me at all.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Do me a favor
I decided on Monday morning that I wanted to invest more time into being a better parent to our boys. I had no intention of reading any reference books, attending any seminars, or reading any parenting magazines (mainly because that takes effort). My only plan was to spend time with them doing activities they enjoy.
Carter has been attending Yarran (an AMAZING early intervention preschool for anyone unfamiliar with it) and they have a big focus on playing with your child to help their development. Seems so obvious, but the one thing I really don't do very well is to let them lead and guide the play. Too often I have a plan on what activity we will do and what we will get out of it rather than just playing for fun and seeing where it goes. Sometimes my attitude is to just 'do my time' with play so I can get back to my own 'to-do' list.
Monday I had Carter at home with me. There was weekend washing to do, bathroom to clean, and dinner to cook.
I chucked the washing on, put dinner in the oven and asked Carter what he felt like doing. He grabbed his scooter and announced we were going for a walk to the skate park. The skate park is a 5 minute walk, but took us about 15. We were the only ones there, but I got to watch my little fellow on his scooter. He is really confident and coordinated on his scooter, which is a stark contrast to his coordination when walking (from the amount of bruises he gets from falling over or walking into things it's a surprise we haven't been reported to DOCS).
We then went for a walk and headed home. In the afternoon we played baseball and did some drawing. I felt a little sad when I realized how much he loved my attention. Im happy he enjoys being with me, but sad because so often he bounces over to me with a ball in his hands asking me to come outside and play, but I tell him I am busy.
And I am busy, but I know if I really wanted to I could find ten minutes to play outside with my little buddy.
That same evening, I wanted to teach Tony how to play Phase 10. He is a bright spark and even though he is younger than the recommended age, I thought he would enjoy it and thrive on the challenge.
How right I was. In fact, he actually beat me his first game, and I wasn't even going easy on him!
It is a delight to watch his brain ticking over as he takes everything in.
Almost exactly 24 hours later, Tony appeared in front of me with Phase 10 in his hands and a hopeful look in his eyes. How could I resist?
I know I'm not a terrible parent or anything, but I am a little disappointed in myself that I sometimes forget that I actually 'enjoy' my children's company. That at times, dropping what I am doing and having some fun with them can feel like work. Don't get me wrong, they are work sometimes, they can be the hardest work of my day. But they are always the best part of day as well.
So....after two days of trying to devote more of me to my sons, how was I repaid?
Tony was awake for the majority of last night with a bad ear infection. Sleepless child equals sleepless parents. Carter had preschool at Yarran this morning and when I returned to pick him up, I was asked;
"Are congratulations in order?"
Obviously bewildered I responded with a befuddled look. I was then informed that Carter had announced to his new Yarran preschool teachers that his Mummy and Daddy were getting married and then given them all a celebratory hi-5. I had to tell them we have been married nearly 8 years now.
And....the icing on the cake - going to pick up Anthony from work and taking a 'busting' Carter to the staff room toilets only to have him blast the taps when he washed his hands and water splash ALL OVER the crotch of my pants! It seriously looked like I had wet my pants!
I am more than happy to have the favor go unreturned next time.
Carter has been attending Yarran (an AMAZING early intervention preschool for anyone unfamiliar with it) and they have a big focus on playing with your child to help their development. Seems so obvious, but the one thing I really don't do very well is to let them lead and guide the play. Too often I have a plan on what activity we will do and what we will get out of it rather than just playing for fun and seeing where it goes. Sometimes my attitude is to just 'do my time' with play so I can get back to my own 'to-do' list.
Monday I had Carter at home with me. There was weekend washing to do, bathroom to clean, and dinner to cook.
I chucked the washing on, put dinner in the oven and asked Carter what he felt like doing. He grabbed his scooter and announced we were going for a walk to the skate park. The skate park is a 5 minute walk, but took us about 15. We were the only ones there, but I got to watch my little fellow on his scooter. He is really confident and coordinated on his scooter, which is a stark contrast to his coordination when walking (from the amount of bruises he gets from falling over or walking into things it's a surprise we haven't been reported to DOCS).
We then went for a walk and headed home. In the afternoon we played baseball and did some drawing. I felt a little sad when I realized how much he loved my attention. Im happy he enjoys being with me, but sad because so often he bounces over to me with a ball in his hands asking me to come outside and play, but I tell him I am busy.
And I am busy, but I know if I really wanted to I could find ten minutes to play outside with my little buddy.
That same evening, I wanted to teach Tony how to play Phase 10. He is a bright spark and even though he is younger than the recommended age, I thought he would enjoy it and thrive on the challenge.
How right I was. In fact, he actually beat me his first game, and I wasn't even going easy on him!
It is a delight to watch his brain ticking over as he takes everything in.
Almost exactly 24 hours later, Tony appeared in front of me with Phase 10 in his hands and a hopeful look in his eyes. How could I resist?
I know I'm not a terrible parent or anything, but I am a little disappointed in myself that I sometimes forget that I actually 'enjoy' my children's company. That at times, dropping what I am doing and having some fun with them can feel like work. Don't get me wrong, they are work sometimes, they can be the hardest work of my day. But they are always the best part of day as well.
So....after two days of trying to devote more of me to my sons, how was I repaid?
Tony was awake for the majority of last night with a bad ear infection. Sleepless child equals sleepless parents. Carter had preschool at Yarran this morning and when I returned to pick him up, I was asked;
"Are congratulations in order?"
Obviously bewildered I responded with a befuddled look. I was then informed that Carter had announced to his new Yarran preschool teachers that his Mummy and Daddy were getting married and then given them all a celebratory hi-5. I had to tell them we have been married nearly 8 years now.
And....the icing on the cake - going to pick up Anthony from work and taking a 'busting' Carter to the staff room toilets only to have him blast the taps when he washed his hands and water splash ALL OVER the crotch of my pants! It seriously looked like I had wet my pants!
I am more than happy to have the favor go unreturned next time.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
And the first shall be last
I had a thought the other day about how common marriage is.
When you think about it, it's pretty amazing the number of people who get married. I know the divorce rate is rather high and it's higher than it was decades ago, but it's still pretty amazing that so many people still get hitched.
The sheer fact that there are so many people who have just happened to find someone they like enough to voluntarily commit to spending EVERY single day with them, sharing half of everything they have, combine their DNA to create little people who will suck the sleep and money from them (among the other joys of parenting) - well the odds of that happening as often as it does is incredible!
I don't think our marriage is the same as it was 7 and a half years ago. There aren't many 'firsts' anymore. We have bought our first car. Gone on our first holiday. Had our first child. Had our first fight. Had our first Christmas. And the list goes on and on.
Things change.
Actually I think it would be concerning if our marriage hadn't changed. It would mean we hadn't grown. We hadn't evolved. We hadn't learnt.
If you asked me seven years ago what I thought made a marriage 'work', I would have said it was good communication, making time for each other, compromise, and a whole lot of love.
Now my answer has changed. It has grown with time and experience.
What I think makes our marriage work is knowing that above all else, we matter most to each other. I know that when I am at the end of my rope at the end of a long day, Anthony will did a little deeper and find the patience to get the boys to bed before I snap. I know that when Anthony is exhausted, I will muster the extra energy to tidy up and get things done. We put each other first when it matters most, but also in the little things. I know I matter to Anthony. I know I am loved.
There are very few firsts left in our marriage, but I don't miss the excitement of that 'new' feeling. I love the security and closeness that we have now. I love that in some ways we know each other as well as we know ourselves.
I doubt I was the first to ever nag Anthony, but I certainly plan on being the last. He is stuck with me now. SUCKER!
When you think about it, it's pretty amazing the number of people who get married. I know the divorce rate is rather high and it's higher than it was decades ago, but it's still pretty amazing that so many people still get hitched.
The sheer fact that there are so many people who have just happened to find someone they like enough to voluntarily commit to spending EVERY single day with them, sharing half of everything they have, combine their DNA to create little people who will suck the sleep and money from them (among the other joys of parenting) - well the odds of that happening as often as it does is incredible!
I don't think our marriage is the same as it was 7 and a half years ago. There aren't many 'firsts' anymore. We have bought our first car. Gone on our first holiday. Had our first child. Had our first fight. Had our first Christmas. And the list goes on and on.
Things change.
Actually I think it would be concerning if our marriage hadn't changed. It would mean we hadn't grown. We hadn't evolved. We hadn't learnt.
If you asked me seven years ago what I thought made a marriage 'work', I would have said it was good communication, making time for each other, compromise, and a whole lot of love.
Now my answer has changed. It has grown with time and experience.
What I think makes our marriage work is knowing that above all else, we matter most to each other. I know that when I am at the end of my rope at the end of a long day, Anthony will did a little deeper and find the patience to get the boys to bed before I snap. I know that when Anthony is exhausted, I will muster the extra energy to tidy up and get things done. We put each other first when it matters most, but also in the little things. I know I matter to Anthony. I know I am loved.
There are very few firsts left in our marriage, but I don't miss the excitement of that 'new' feeling. I love the security and closeness that we have now. I love that in some ways we know each other as well as we know ourselves.
I doubt I was the first to ever nag Anthony, but I certainly plan on being the last. He is stuck with me now. SUCKER!
Thursday, August 2, 2012
On second thought....
Why is it that when you are out and you spot someone you recognize but don't know overly well, you don't say "hi"? I'm sure everyone is familiar with this kind of scenario.
At the shops, spot someone you met once/used to work with/went to school with/met at so-and-so's wedding and your first instinct is to go and say "hi".
But then that little voice chimes in telling you;
"Na, don't go over, they won't remember you and you will just feel stupid."
So you walk on, avoiding any eye contact, and continue on to the food court to get a Cheeseburger with added mayo (don't knock it til you've tried it).
It took me a while, but logic tells me that if I recognize them, wouldn't it be likely they recognize me?
Unless they are a 90 year old woman, or have been in a memory altering car accident since our last meeting, it's very possible I will say hi, re-introduce myself and will get a;
"Oh hi! How have you been?"
I see a pattern in my life though. So many thoughts pop into my mind that seem like good ideas, but then a second thought follows that makes that first thought seem silly and I end up scrapping it all together.
"Maybe I should give 'insert name' a call......actually she is always really busy and I wouldn't want to bother her."
"It seemed like 'insert name' was a little upset today, I should see if she's alright......but I don't want to interfere in case she doesn't want to talk about it."
"I should try and put my 'insert skill/talent' to use and try a new venture....but I don't want to make a fool of myself and mess it up and fail."
Generally speaking, my first instincts are good ideas. They are positive things. It's ALWAYS that second thought that follows straight away that talks me out of it.
Sadly, it sometimes gets to the point that it becomes my instinct to talk myself out of good things. A new suggestion, a new idea, a new venture, and my first instinct will be to provide a hundred reasons why I can't do it.
Logic tells me it isn't risking failure, embarrassment, or bothering a friend that's stupid. It's talking myself out of something good for no good reason that's stupid. It's missing out on helping someone else, or doing something enjoyable, or that will better my own life, that makes no sense.
So, as a starting point, from now on I will make a better effort to make eye-contact and say 'hi'' to those people I recognize at the shop. Worse case scenario - I will get a blank look, get all embarrassed and flushed, and skulk off and get two Cheeseburgers instead of one.
At the shops, spot someone you met once/used to work with/went to school with/met at so-and-so's wedding and your first instinct is to go and say "hi".
But then that little voice chimes in telling you;
"Na, don't go over, they won't remember you and you will just feel stupid."
So you walk on, avoiding any eye contact, and continue on to the food court to get a Cheeseburger with added mayo (don't knock it til you've tried it).
It took me a while, but logic tells me that if I recognize them, wouldn't it be likely they recognize me?
Unless they are a 90 year old woman, or have been in a memory altering car accident since our last meeting, it's very possible I will say hi, re-introduce myself and will get a;
"Oh hi! How have you been?"
I see a pattern in my life though. So many thoughts pop into my mind that seem like good ideas, but then a second thought follows that makes that first thought seem silly and I end up scrapping it all together.
"Maybe I should give 'insert name' a call......actually she is always really busy and I wouldn't want to bother her."
"It seemed like 'insert name' was a little upset today, I should see if she's alright......but I don't want to interfere in case she doesn't want to talk about it."
"I should try and put my 'insert skill/talent' to use and try a new venture....but I don't want to make a fool of myself and mess it up and fail."
Generally speaking, my first instincts are good ideas. They are positive things. It's ALWAYS that second thought that follows straight away that talks me out of it.
Sadly, it sometimes gets to the point that it becomes my instinct to talk myself out of good things. A new suggestion, a new idea, a new venture, and my first instinct will be to provide a hundred reasons why I can't do it.
Logic tells me it isn't risking failure, embarrassment, or bothering a friend that's stupid. It's talking myself out of something good for no good reason that's stupid. It's missing out on helping someone else, or doing something enjoyable, or that will better my own life, that makes no sense.
So, as a starting point, from now on I will make a better effort to make eye-contact and say 'hi'' to those people I recognize at the shop. Worse case scenario - I will get a blank look, get all embarrassed and flushed, and skulk off and get two Cheeseburgers instead of one.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Bringing a little bit of bogan to Kariong
We have been in our new house about six weeks now. I feel pretty settled here now and am enjoying not walking up nearly a hundred stairs to get from our car to the front door. I enjoy not having to take the "cold" items up first when I buy groceries, just in case I need a big rest break after making it up and can't be bothered going back for the rest. Anthony LOVES not having to carry two sleeping boys at once (Carter in his arms and Tony barely hanging on to his back) when we get home late at night so he doesn't have to make two trips. Let's just say we are in no way taking getting out of our parked car and walking ten meters to our front door for granted.
Another perk is we now have a yard. An actual front and back yard with grass. I know it sounds sad that it is a source of excitement for us, but previously our boys only had a veranda out the front, and a small paved strip out the back. The veranda didn't seem overly solid, and the paved area was overgrown because we were too scared to go out there and trim it back (actually Anthony was too scared - I was just too lazy). This meant we took a lot of trips to the park.
Well, aside from having actual grass we can call our own, we are virtually next door to a park. As in if you cross our neighbours driveway, you are at the park.
Our boys love the park and a few days after we moved in, Mr. Tarts and I were out the front. I was putting something in the shed and he was playing with a footy. I went inside to turn the oven off and came back to an empty yard. I called out to Carter and heard nothing. I went around the side gate to the back but found nothing. Then it clicked!
I walked down the driveway and out the front gate and headed for the park. When I arrived there I spotted Carter standing on the square-shaped bench with his arm outstretched. As I got closer I realized he was doing a rather loud performance of "Grease Lightning", complete with jacket being swung and thrown. Fortunately a stern chat has meant no more solo excursions to the park.
On Friday I took Carter to the park while the sun was shining. Once we got there I sat on the bench and realized I should have brought a book. I ended up laying down and enjoying the sun on my face. I'm not how sure how long I was out, but I ended up falling asleep - on the park bench.
The only reason I woke up was because I heard a splashing sound nearby. I squinted to look in the direction of the sound to find Carter next to the bench with his pants around his ankles doing a very public wee!
Kariong should be thrilled we have moved it - we are all class!
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Another perk is we now have a yard. An actual front and back yard with grass. I know it sounds sad that it is a source of excitement for us, but previously our boys only had a veranda out the front, and a small paved strip out the back. The veranda didn't seem overly solid, and the paved area was overgrown because we were too scared to go out there and trim it back (actually Anthony was too scared - I was just too lazy). This meant we took a lot of trips to the park.
Well, aside from having actual grass we can call our own, we are virtually next door to a park. As in if you cross our neighbours driveway, you are at the park.
Our boys love the park and a few days after we moved in, Mr. Tarts and I were out the front. I was putting something in the shed and he was playing with a footy. I went inside to turn the oven off and came back to an empty yard. I called out to Carter and heard nothing. I went around the side gate to the back but found nothing. Then it clicked!
I walked down the driveway and out the front gate and headed for the park. When I arrived there I spotted Carter standing on the square-shaped bench with his arm outstretched. As I got closer I realized he was doing a rather loud performance of "Grease Lightning", complete with jacket being swung and thrown. Fortunately a stern chat has meant no more solo excursions to the park.
On Friday I took Carter to the park while the sun was shining. Once we got there I sat on the bench and realized I should have brought a book. I ended up laying down and enjoying the sun on my face. I'm not how sure how long I was out, but I ended up falling asleep - on the park bench.
The only reason I woke up was because I heard a splashing sound nearby. I squinted to look in the direction of the sound to find Carter next to the bench with his pants around his ankles doing a very public wee!
Kariong should be thrilled we have moved it - we are all class!
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Monday, July 23, 2012
Our version of scripture reading
Last night, before the boys went to bed, we read them a Scripture story. We read about Nephi going to get the plates from King Laban. They have heard the story before, but we hadn't read it together for a while.
Anthony did the actual reading of the scriptures - complete with voices (his Lehi voice sounded like either an old woman or Dobby).
Its amazing to watch such young children so enthralled listening to a story in scripture-language that is sometimes difficult for adults to understand.
Tony loves a good story and was listening eagerly. When it came to the point where the four brothers drew lots to see who would go in to see King Laban, we showed the boys what it meant to draw lots. I got the short matchstick! Even though he knew we were just pretending, Tony's sweet nature didn't want me to lose and as soon as he saw the little matchstick in my hand he said;
"Here Mum, take mine - we can swap."
Nice to know if I ever have to confront a wicked King, Tony will step in for me.
We read about how Laman lost and had to go but was chased out. We read how they went back with all their gold and silver to trade with King Laban, but that he took all their riches and tried to have them all killed.
We read how they were told to go back a third time. With eyebrows raised we asked the boys;
"Oh no! They have to go back AGAIN! What do you think will happen this time?"
Carter jumped up from the couch and stood in front of Anthony with his hand raised for a 'hi-five' and said;
"They're going to kick butt!"
Not quite scripture language....but accurate all the same.
Anthony did the actual reading of the scriptures - complete with voices (his Lehi voice sounded like either an old woman or Dobby).
Its amazing to watch such young children so enthralled listening to a story in scripture-language that is sometimes difficult for adults to understand.
Tony loves a good story and was listening eagerly. When it came to the point where the four brothers drew lots to see who would go in to see King Laban, we showed the boys what it meant to draw lots. I got the short matchstick! Even though he knew we were just pretending, Tony's sweet nature didn't want me to lose and as soon as he saw the little matchstick in my hand he said;
"Here Mum, take mine - we can swap."
Nice to know if I ever have to confront a wicked King, Tony will step in for me.
We read about how Laman lost and had to go but was chased out. We read how they went back with all their gold and silver to trade with King Laban, but that he took all their riches and tried to have them all killed.
We read how they were told to go back a third time. With eyebrows raised we asked the boys;
"Oh no! They have to go back AGAIN! What do you think will happen this time?"
Carter jumped up from the couch and stood in front of Anthony with his hand raised for a 'hi-five' and said;
"They're going to kick butt!"
Not quite scripture language....but accurate all the same.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Our hero
Anthony and I had a little....incident...late last night. We went to bed later than usual (not a good idea considering it was the first day back at school today). I took my pain killer before bed but my normal dose didn't seem to do the trick so I decided to take another, but needed to put something in my stomach first as dinner was hours earlier.
I made myself a hot Milo and climbed into bed to drink it and watch a DVD. Before I could even take the first sip, I managed to tip nearly half of it all over our quilt and myself. After sending Anthony to get a tea towel and getting myself and our bed cleaned up, I finished my drink.
I HATE going to sleep without brushing my teeth. No matter how late, or how tired I am, I will always drag myself to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
So, before getting too sleepy I got up to brush my teeth. As I went to open our bedroom door, I turned the handled but couldn't open the door. I tried turning the other direction, but still nothing. In a slightly more panicked fashion, I turned left, right, then left again and tugged but the door wouldn't budge. Our bedroom door has no lock on it but it was somehow broken.
It was as if the handle was disconnected to the inside mechanism and my turning was doing nothing at all.
Being somewhat dramatic, I turned back to Anthony and informed him;
"WE'RE TRAPPED!! No joke, we are stuck in here and can't get out! I won't be able to brush my teeth!"
Anthony got up to inspect our predicament and asked if I had anything to try and pry it open.
I can be a bit of a slob sometimes and rather than putting things away properly I just shove them in the closest draw. Its a bit of an "out of sight, out if mind" mentality.
I dug around and found some of my old Driver's Licenses and a bobby pin.
In our best MacGyver effort, we poked and prodded at the door. To be honest I don't think either of us had any idea what we were doing. For all I know we could have been jamming it more.
We conceded defeat pretty quickly and resorted to yelling out to Tony to try and wake him to come let us out. We knocked on the door and called out but Tony is a very deep sleeper and wasn't going to be waking up any time soon.
We considered climbing out our window but that was pointless as we still had no way of getting in the house with everything locked up for the night.
As a last resort we thought we would try Carter. Carter wakes up earlier than all of us and I am always cautious of waking him before I need to because once he is up, he will stay awake. In desperation, we lay on the floor and called out the gap under the door to Carter.
There was no response and we almost had to resign to the fact we were well and truly trapped til one of the boys woke up in the morning.
Then...we heard a sound. It was Carter! Our yelling had caused him to stir. We called out again to him to come to our room and open the door. His half-asleep response was;
"Shhh, be quiet, I'm busy!!"
After having a giggle we called to him again and finally we heard the patter of little feet coming to the rescue. We watched the door handle turn and I was thrilled to see Carters sleepy little face. After a hero's welcome, we tucked him back into bed and taped the door jam so we couldn't get stuck again before we get a new door handle.
Give MacGyver a straw and a paperclip and he could have made a gun and shot his way out of handcuffs.
The two of us couldn't even get a door, without a lock, open!!
I made myself a hot Milo and climbed into bed to drink it and watch a DVD. Before I could even take the first sip, I managed to tip nearly half of it all over our quilt and myself. After sending Anthony to get a tea towel and getting myself and our bed cleaned up, I finished my drink.
I HATE going to sleep without brushing my teeth. No matter how late, or how tired I am, I will always drag myself to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
So, before getting too sleepy I got up to brush my teeth. As I went to open our bedroom door, I turned the handled but couldn't open the door. I tried turning the other direction, but still nothing. In a slightly more panicked fashion, I turned left, right, then left again and tugged but the door wouldn't budge. Our bedroom door has no lock on it but it was somehow broken.
It was as if the handle was disconnected to the inside mechanism and my turning was doing nothing at all.
Being somewhat dramatic, I turned back to Anthony and informed him;
"WE'RE TRAPPED!! No joke, we are stuck in here and can't get out! I won't be able to brush my teeth!"
Anthony got up to inspect our predicament and asked if I had anything to try and pry it open.
I can be a bit of a slob sometimes and rather than putting things away properly I just shove them in the closest draw. Its a bit of an "out of sight, out if mind" mentality.
I dug around and found some of my old Driver's Licenses and a bobby pin.
In our best MacGyver effort, we poked and prodded at the door. To be honest I don't think either of us had any idea what we were doing. For all I know we could have been jamming it more.
We conceded defeat pretty quickly and resorted to yelling out to Tony to try and wake him to come let us out. We knocked on the door and called out but Tony is a very deep sleeper and wasn't going to be waking up any time soon.
We considered climbing out our window but that was pointless as we still had no way of getting in the house with everything locked up for the night.
As a last resort we thought we would try Carter. Carter wakes up earlier than all of us and I am always cautious of waking him before I need to because once he is up, he will stay awake. In desperation, we lay on the floor and called out the gap under the door to Carter.
There was no response and we almost had to resign to the fact we were well and truly trapped til one of the boys woke up in the morning.
Then...we heard a sound. It was Carter! Our yelling had caused him to stir. We called out again to him to come to our room and open the door. His half-asleep response was;
"Shhh, be quiet, I'm busy!!"
After having a giggle we called to him again and finally we heard the patter of little feet coming to the rescue. We watched the door handle turn and I was thrilled to see Carters sleepy little face. After a hero's welcome, we tucked him back into bed and taped the door jam so we couldn't get stuck again before we get a new door handle.
Give MacGyver a straw and a paperclip and he could have made a gun and shot his way out of handcuffs.
The two of us couldn't even get a door, without a lock, open!!
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