Tonight we took the gate off Boy Detective’s crib. When it was time for him to go to sleep, I laid him down in what looks much more like an actual bed than where I laid him down last night. Without the gate, he can get in and out of bed as he chooses… and honestly I find this kind of creepy.
You know I’m not one to freak out all that much about parenting things, having never had anything serious to freak out about (thank goodness). I did move pretty quickly when he put a small white pom pom in his mouth to eat it tonight while C-Man was reading him a book, but that was equal parts “oh damn he’s going to swallow that pom pom” and “why the f&%k isn’t C-Man noticing this when he’s sitting RIGHT THERE?” The answer to which is “because he was busy reading Big Dog and Little Dog by Dav Pilkey which is really lovely and has a bit about how Big Dog and Little Dog are hungry and hey, I wonder why Boy Detective suddenly tried to eat a pom pom…”
Sorry, where was I? I’m not sleeping well, remember? Actually you should just make a permanent note of that because it’s always true.
So yeah, having Boy Detective in a self-serve bed really trips me out, but not in that “dammit he’s eating a pom pom this could be trouble” way. More of a “strange little person with limited language skills wandering around the house at night doing who knows what” kind of way. Yes, we did shut all the doors and yes, we did put up the gate across the top of the stairs, and yes, tomorrow we are putting a chain lock on the outside of his door so he can bang it loudly when he wants out.
But still, he could just be walking around. While I’m asleep. In my house.
You have to realize that about 1/3 of the time, I view Boy Detective as a tiny alien creature who wanders around learning about our planet. It’s less striking now that he wears pants and shirts like the rest of us. When he wore onesies, he really did seem like a tiny alien with a big belly and an inexplicable fondness for leotards.
Perhaps if I had seen fewer science fiction films, I would not be so creeped out.
Wish me luck. He’s an extremely active sleeper, so I’m ready for him to fall out of bed several times a night and my guess is that he will not be pleased about it. And C-Man will be out of town Sunday through Thursday, whee!
p.s. I’m not supposed to tell the Internet that my husband is out of town, though, right? Someone is on their way over to steal the silver, I can just tell.