It is a sad day today.  My lifeline to the outside world has gone to a better place after being viciously attacked by a cup of coffee.  I am mourning this loss greatly, and would like to take a moment to share what my laptop meant to me.

My laptop was a rather new addition to my life—we didn’t quite have four months together—but we were fast friends.  Anywhere I went, my little WiFi buddy was there with me, ready to accept my endless and obsessive blogging, emailing, googling and facebooking without any judgment. It was there for my comfort and convenience only, never asking me for anything other than a battery saving charge every now and then.

Together we started our first attempts at being a writer amidst the chaos of kids, its trademark mobility allowing me to type while completing my endless tasks of bathing children, feeding children, etc.  My laptop held my secret writings, (those that I won't let anyone read because I'm self conscious), my public postings and my first attempts at submissions.  It was what I took with me as an excuse to get much needed "me time," simply becuase I felt more purposeful knowing I could sit down and type somewhere, rather than just stare off into space.

Now I am stuck back in the dungeons (ok, the “office” and “basement”—both very comfortable and fully furnished—but not wherever I’d want to be…), unable to type at a whims notice.  Now, my creativity dictated by my many children’s schedule a phenomenon that is not conducive to writing, a sad reality that you might notice in the future days. Now, I am back to being just a person, rather than an aspiring writer—except for the few minutes a day I have after the kids go to bed before I pass out.

The loss of my laptop also means the loss of innocence that my babies are going to be sweet little angels forever.  Them pouring my coffee over the keyboard was the final move that brands them as hell raisers in my mind. 

Sure, I knew that they were capable of destroying a room in a single crawl, but I thought it was all in innocence.  When they started climbing up on things, desperately trying to get at my laptop and the other computer, I wrote it off to curiosity.  When they grew intent on knocking every book of the shelves all day long, I chuckled at their focus. But when they broke the 3 off my keyboard, I started to grow suspicious as to their motive, but still shrugged it off. 

Yesterday, all suspicions were confirmed when, in the time that it takes a fully potty trained human to pee, they managed to knock my computer down, OPEN IT, and dump a cup off coffee on it.  It was then that I knew they meant business.

With this revelation, I went into lockdown mode.  Shelves were emptied, barricades erected, gates planned and a playpen ordered from Grandpa.  No longer was I going to be held prisoner by these 25 pound hooligans! I was taking back my life! I may have suffered a casualty, but no more!

Why did it take her so long? You might be wondering.  Why didn’t she do this before they could move? Of course they’re getting into everything!  They’re toddlers!

Valid point, BUT, my other two beloved children NEVER caused this much destruction.  We never had to fully baby proof because they were never interested in getting into everything.  They were perfectly content to make a mess out of their own stuff, never even realizing that there was any other option.

Now? Everything’s fair game and there’s two of them to conquer.

Sigh.

I guess this is just a stage and they won’t be destroying things forever (I hope).  Until then I'll have to let go of the little slice of life I was beginning (or at least cut back on it ) and focus on babyproofing my life—one lost sentence at a time.

Wish me luck.