It happened over night.

We went to bed Saturday night just like any other, but when we woke up Sunday morning, our lives had changed forever.

My husband was the first one in the nursery. I knew something was gravely wrong when I heard him say, “Babe, you gotta come see this.”

Fear rose from the depths of my gut as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and let my foot start to tap around to find the ground. As usual, I found 67 pounds of golden fur where my foot should be hitting hard wood. I used the length of my gait to extend my legs out past the beast and trudged into the nursery. The beast was only steps behind me, his claws clacking on the floor.

A few moments later, all three of us were gawking at what we saw. There, standing on two feet, holding on to the rails, was a tiny little creature weighing 16.11 pounds. I immediately started laughing, as he looked absolutely pathetic. It was as if he’d gotten his first visitor at the jail in six months. I followed his eyes to his do-it on the ground. Clearly, it had fallen through the rails and he thought he’d attempt his hands at recovery.

A week prior we’d decided it was time to put our son in day care, just for a few hours a day, once a week. We have no intention for another child and want him to learn how to share, and play with other kids. The entire day I’d fretted that he was learning bad behaviors, like how to hit other kids with small toy cars. But he learned something much different – through osmosis.

Tuck had been “up on all fours” as they call it since the first week of December and many predicted he would crawl in a matter of days. He continued his usual banana slug maneuver until Wednesday, when he came home from daycare. He had now perfected the art of the army crawl. But unfortunately for him, his arm/leg coordination was still not enough for him to gain any real distance. We thoroughly enjoyed our un-baby proofed home in the days to follow.

So Sunday morning after detaching – or rather prying – his arms off the side rails, we set him on the floor in the nursery with a few toys and let him “play independently” while we took turns showering and filling our coffee cups.

I was sitting at the dining table blogging, while my husband was on the phone with his Dad. All of a sudden I felt something tugging at my pant leg. I looked down saw a little precious face, and grin which exposed two little white toofies. My husband said, “Dad I gotta go…”

Then there was utter and complete chaos.

He grabbed the drill and I grabbed the tie down package, I would say it was like Flight of the Bumblebee, except that is far too organized of a description.

I’m fairly certain the child landed super human powers. He would disappear and reappear on the opposite side of the house in a matter of seconds. Everywhere we went, he’d already been, and already destroyed with his laser stick. Nothing was sacred.

I went to grab a towel from the linen closet, only to find he’d already pulled out three and had used them as mops on the hallway floor. My husband and I bounced off each other, down on our hands and knees attempting to tip and pull at anything in eye sight.

I sprinted to find the baby gate and trapped the small creature inside the now baby-proofed nursery. I sat down on the edge our bed panting, regaining my breath. I heard my husband in the other room on the phone with his good buddy who is a die hard Niner fan, and whose wife is currently one week post-her due date, she was literally having contractions.

My husband was chatting up the Championship game which was about to kick off, and giving his friend last minute advice, “I know everyone says it, but it seriously flies by, I miss when he was so little. So call us when she goes in, if you need us to come let the dogs out and whatnot…”

I proceeded cautiously into the quarantined baby room, and suddenly exclaimed, “BABE...come quick!”

I heard him hang up the phone, “Oh no, are you okay?” He hollered back at me.

The creature had used his super human powers and managed to pull the crib, which was on locked wheels across the room trapping him and all his stuffed animal cohorts in a protected corner. Once again the chaos began. We were out of tie downs and had to get crafty, we firmly bolted the crib to the wall. Then we sat in awe, staring at the hulked out child, who had now pulled himself to a standing position and was attempting to walk across the room, crispy rice cereal finger tips attempting to help him keep his balance.

At almost the exact same moment we said, “That’s it. It’s over.”

And now our lives will never be the same. They aren’t kidding when they say it happens over night. And I’m blaming those kids at daycare.