Namastè!
Wasn't a very Namastè-ful night around here, sheesh. I did not sleep well.
Baby Namastè is at that busy, into-everything stage.
Yesterday evening he decided to get into some bigger, more advanced mischief.
He. Locked. Himself. In. Our. Bedroom.
That cry is one I'd pay good money to have never heard. I woke up in several cold sweats last night, upset about the what-ifs.
There's only one practical way into our bedroom: the door! The windows are two stories up. Naturally, the window was locked and of course, he inadvertently vetoed our access via door.
When out attempts to sort of jimmy the door with the old credit card trick didn't work, we tried the old butter knife trick.
Throughout our tricks and fancies, Princess Namastè talked and sang to him via one of our monitors. Despite the banging and thrashing we put on the door, he stayed relatively calm. But...
Every second felt like an hour.
I ended up calling our local public safety officials while hammering the crap out of the doorknob. I mean straight John Henry status hammering. My arm is sore this morning. I feel like I hammered in the morning, like I hammered in the evening...
I digress.
I had our fire department on the line as I was bashing the door. Before they could send out the truck, we gave that door one good whack.
It opened.
Not without rendering my door completely useless, mind you. That thing is over. Donezo. Kaput. The knob is currently in irreparable pieces. The door itself is hanging a little funny.
...but my little bear! Oh, my sweet, albeit terrified, baby ran straight to me and he was okay. He was a little shaken up of course, and red as a tomato from crying.
Easily the longest 7 minutes from my life.
I'd smash that door a million times.
My mistake? The one I alluded to in the title?
Well, dears, here it goes...
I underestimated my kid.
He was not unattended. He was playing within my immediate line of vision. This house is past well baby-proofed--everything is gated, locked, or buffered. Baby Namastè is never left to his own devices. I can literally always see him. However yesterday I blinked. I literally took my eyes off him for half a second to have a bite of my snack, and in that split second he locked the room door.
Note: Even when he is NOT in my immediate sight, I use a multi-camera monitor, so I can always see where he is in a room, and thanks to the zoom feature I can see exactly what he is getting up to.
But our vigilance and our high tech monitoring system is not always a match for the spontaneous ideas of a toddler.
I'm human. I am still shaking, all these hours later. I'm tempted to put him in the carrier and kangaroo it all day. I keep thinking about the what-ifs, the outcomes in the darker side of this. I could still hear that pitiful, scared cry in my dreams last night. When we got the door open, he ran straight for me, reaching up.
He wanted mama those 7 minutes. I couldn't get there. For 7 whole minutes he was terrified and alone.
Alas, he has recovered, from what I see anyway. He has been staying close to us, but still playing. Still full of smiles. Still talking! He is not nearly as traumatized by his afternoon antics as we were.
All that to say this:
1. Babyproof. Start early.
2. Get pool noodles for the doors. Cut them, put the up high on each door, and breathe easier because babies and toddlers can neither reach them to take them off NOR close the doors with noodles attached.
They don't damage anything and cost like a buck.
I'll spend more than a buck to get this door replaced for sure. I'll certainly be adding a couple bucks to my expenditure to get these pool noodles though!
3. Most important of all--don't underestimate your kid. Ever.
They are often faster and smarter than we think.
I'm about to make myself a quick breakfast now, and make a smoothie for my littlest bear. Another day of outsmarting the toddler awaits!
I'm glad. I am often outdone by toddlerdom, but I wouldn't change it.
Namastè!
-- Tayè K. ♡
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