Sometimes you hear things

Okay, the other day I was downstairs, making teeth, doing my "thang"....and Kevin was watching the girls. Or so I thought....So back to me, doing my thing. I was pretty much in the zone until I hear Kevin mutter loudly "JESUS CHRIST!" and wonderful mother that I am, my first thought was thanks a lot lets teach our toddler to say that one...brilliant! Then I hear thud thud thud thud and the back slider opening...next thought was something along the lines of oh great the dog is eating some poor child again. And then I hear Maddie saying "Did you find the puppy?" HUH? So by this point I'm up the stairs and seeing Kevin carrying Maddie back up the stairs on our deck.....so the little woman busted loose!

So moral of the story, we now lock our slider door. And we had to put extra securities at the top of our stairwell inside just to keep our strongwoman from pushing the tension gate open and having a free for all in the no-nos.

Okay, a note on babyproofing:
Children are so over that whole fingers in the outlets routine...they've moved on to baseboard heaters. My children practically live with sooted black fingers from stickin them inside the coils. This morning I had to pull the littlest of women from the heater, she was poking and crying because you guessed it, it was warming up and she didn't quite like that....(she's fine, she's not burned, she's got all fingers, please dont call the police because some blogger let her child play in a baseboard heater. besides, it's fully impossible to stop a child from latching on to a fun activity...try it.)

Kevin's happy birthday is today by the way....he's officially all old and stuff, well, older than me anyway. We were hoping to be able to get some awesome ribs from this little bbq place down the road from us, it's the best bbq you can find in the pacific northwest, because lets face it.....we only do potatoes and onions. Well, and sometimes apples. But now that i've got everyone all bothered for bbq, the place is closed on sundays, so we cant do ribs for the "party". (I say party but that's not an accurate enough description for a bunch of boring people sitting around a table pretending to have a great time when we'd all rather be somewhere else.)