I like to think my parenting style is pretty easy going. I can handle muddy footprints streaked across the front porch, tunneled earth in my flower beds to try to reach the baby kitties hiding for their lives under our deck, and trampled cabbage plants (ok.. that's only because I have 15 of them).
My carefree attitude was evidenced the other day while we were at a friend's house and the kids were happily playing down the basement. Another mother asked, "Is the basement child-proofed pretty well?" There was a slight hesitation, to which I remarked, "Define child proofed... As in.. we like to let our kids learn from consequences? If that's what you mean.. then yes." To which the other mother immediately rushed downstairs to check on the kids.
This morning the boys were out playing in the sand pile and I went in the house to get Ella down for a nap. She was just about asleep in my arms when I heard blood-curdling shrieks coming from outside. My first instinct was to ignore them. But they grew in intensity. And immediately I remembered the 2 girls who were abducted from a small Iowa town that is not too close, yet WAY too close to home for us.. I remembered telling the boys that if anyone were to ever try to take them that they should scream as loud as they could, biting and kicking and scratching. I grew a little panicked, at least enough to leave the comfy chair I was sitting in, and awaken the almost asleep Ella in my arms to rush to the door to look out.
And this is what I saw...
Welp.. better safe than sorry I guess..