Saturday, May 13, 2006

Long Story, Short Ending

Ethan knows how to climb out of his crib.

Actually, he's had this knowledge for about a year and a half now, but we've been able to keep it under control by telling him he would fall and hit his head if he climbed out (which is what happened the very first time he did it), and he is inordinately afraid of hitting his head. Perhaps it was wrong of me to use fear to keep him in his crib, but hey, whatever. It worked well for a year and a half.

This past week it quit working.

He's been climbing out of his crib every day this past week. But you know what? I would be totally OK with that if all he did was read his books, or play with his cars. But he doesn't.

The first time we discovered he was doing this, he had literally trashed his room. The door on the changing table was open and hanging on only one hinge; a drawer was out of his dresser and its contents strewn as far as the eye could see; his little bonsai that is part of his night-night routine was pulled from its throne and denuded, its branches scattered to the four winds; the ornaments were also pulled off and all the strings gone; the angels stripped of their wings and the mice, their ears. In short, it was chaos.

He helped us clean it up, with much grumbling on our part. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me, right? With that thinking, we swept all surfaces bare and emptied the drawers of everything but his essentials. We left books and a couple of cars in there, hoping if he was going to play, he would at least do it sanely.

The next day, I put him down for his nap, and he climbed right out again immediately. I left him in there for his normal naptime, and then headed from my room to his to get him.

I had a sense of foreboding as soon as I realized I could smell wipes, very strongly, all the way out in the living room, even with his door shut.

The room was trashed yet again, but nothing destroyed. All the wipes were salvageable.

OK, fine. I'm learning. Trial and error.

Day three. Down for a "nap." Silence for a looong time, but I knew he wasn't sleeping. I was busy in the kitchen, when he came to me with a white, flat, piece of wood in his hands. That now-familiar sense of foreboding hit me. I rushed to his room to find he had snapped one of the slats in his blinds. I figured it was an accident, so I wasn't too hard on him. Fussed at him and told him to be careful not to do it again. I put him in his crib and came in here to tell my husband what had happened, and I heard, **SNAP!!!** The little stinker had done it AGAIN.

So I left the blinds wide open, with the strings out of his reach, and left him in there for another little while if for no other reason than to give myself time to cool off.

My husband and I decided to order a Crib Tent to keep him in. If he weren't so destructive, it wouldn't be an issue, but he just wanders around seeking what he may devour. It's insanity. In the meantime, while we wait for the Crib Tent, no naps (ALAS!!) and early bedtime every night.

All that brings me to the point of the post. To make a long story short (too late!),

He was sitting at the table, quietly peeling his crayons as I quietly lost my mind in another room. All day long with an extremely high-energy bundle of defiant two-year-old, on no breaks, will do that to a girl. I decided we needed to get out, anywhere. We would go to the grocery store. Anything.

I go out to get everyone ready to go, and find this:















*cue heavenly choir of angels singing the Hallelujah Chorus*

I was so thrilled I was giddy. It was ridiculous how happy I was. Perma-smile plastered on my face and everything. I couldn't stop grinning. Blessed relief!

I had a bit of a scare when Aidan woke him up by crying, but I carried Ethan to his crib and he slept for 2 more hours.

And I'm praying the Crib Tent gets here on Monday, because I don't know how much more I can stand of this no-nap thing.

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