No big news from Day Three. Matty’s sweet, sweet song of death lasted a scant 30 minutes before he relinquished. If he woke up during the wee hours, he didn’t make enough noise to wake us up, so that’s a thing. And, when I woke up on my own at 7:45 this morning, he was awake, but still lying on the same piece floor where he spent the night, quietly babbling to himself.
The most remarkable thing about this is how happy and normal he seems each morning when he is liberated. These past few mornings have been some of his happiest ever, which seems a little counter-intuitive. Because of the seriousness of the noises he makes when we leave him each night, I always expect there to be some residual emotional trauma in the morning. I mean, he could at least hold an angry grudge. “YOU. What the fuck is wrong with you?! Did you not hear me screaming? No concern that I might be, I don’t know, slowly being devoured by a wolf? THERE ARE TOO WOLVES IN GEORGIA. Look at the side of my face. LOOK AT IT. Notice anything … out of the ordinary? How about the topo-map of Mars because I SLEPT ON THE BARE GOD DAMN CARPET. Oh shut up about my bed already, that stupid red rectangle of sorrow. Fuck you. Get out of my way, I’m getting some milk.”
Right now it is Saturday, technically Day Four, but I’m writing about it because we had the distinct privilege of getting to execute naptime earlier this afternoon. I’ll spare the gory details and jump right to the conclusion: We’re going to need several more baby monitors. We currently have the one monitor pointed at the area in front of his door because that’s where he spends 98% of his time these days. Today, he moaned and wailed under the door just like normal, but he pulled himself together after only ten minutes or so. I glanced at the monitor to see him spring to his feet and dart out of the video frame. What ensued was an agonizing game of parental chicken. How long can you sit and listen to a toddler “do stuff” without being able to see them before you go intervene? His room is pretty well child proof, but as soon as I couldn’t see him, I realized all of the [potentially] dangerous shenanigans that could [potentially] transpire. “Oh my god. He could use the dresser drawers as stairs to climb up and then use the lamp to smash a window. WHAT IF HE TRIES TO EAT THE LAMP?!”
In the end, I gave him about 40 minutes before I had to know what all the noises were. He had completely disassembled his changing table and was doing a pretty good job relocating an entire package of wipes, individually. And there was a weird wet spot on his bed. But other than that, things were okay. I decided to suspend training in the interest of him actually having a nap, so I laid down next to him and he fell asleep in like 4 minutes.
Forward we march.