Be careful what you wish for
cause you just might get it all
you just might get it all
and then some you don’t want
Today was a wonderfully peaceful day for me. Nik slept through the night —second night in a row —and I awoke feeling rested and refreshed. No special plans today; Niksdad ended up having tons of studying to do for school so we opted to stick close to home. I had a leisurely start to the day and went to work out while Nik and Daddy went to the park. I even managed to get out to a matinee all by myself. God bless Niksdad!
The movie was wonderful —bittersweet with no chance of a happy ending as it is loosely based on presumed history. None the less, it was a couple of hours of delightful entertainment which tugged at my heartstrings. I had a good time. Niksdad? Not such a good time.
I called home after the movie to find out if Nik had slept. “Oh, no,” Niksdad said in a cryptic tone. “Um, OK, did he poop and you’re cleaning up after Poocasso?” “Nope.” “Everything OK?” “I’ll tell you about it when you get home,” he replied in that odd tone that said no one was hurt but something serious had transpired in my absence. Breaking a few local speed laws, I made it home to find my son playing happily in the family room; his father sat at the dining room table with a worn, weary expression on his face. In the moment our eyes met and he started to laugh quietly, I knew exactly what had happened.
“I put Nik down for his nap and was in the loft studying. He was really quiet for a while,” he told me. “After about 45 minutes, I thought I heard what sounded like the armoire door opening and closing; I went to investigate.” My jaw dropped in disbelief. “I opened the door and saw this little body come walking toward me in the dark. I looked in the crib; sure enough, Nik was not there!”
“Um, honey, if a small body was walking toward you in the dark, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t one of the cats or any of Nik’s stuffed animals,” I said in that tone one reserves for people who are in a deep state of shock. Clearly, Niksdad was a tad traumatized by the events of the preceding hours. “Any idea how he did it,” I asked. “I mean, you didn’t hear the thump or anything?” Niksdad wearily shook his head. “I was dumbfounded,” he sighed. “I put him back in and went to get the net from his closet. If I hadn’t turned around when I did, I would have missed the second time, too.”
Apparently, my son —whom one doctor once described as having “diminished mental capacity,” and who cannot talk and does not eat but is rapidly perfecting his new skill of walking —cogitated, analyzed, visualized and what-have-you his way to figuring out how to get out of his crib without making a sound. That’s right —my stealthy monkey figured out a masterful bit of advanced motor planning which would make Miss D exceedingly proud. But I’ll let Niksdad tell the rest.
“The whole thing took maybe a full minute. He threw one leg over the side and then, somehow, hoisted himself up so he was actually sitting on the rail.” “You mean, both legs dangling over one side?” I asked incredulously. “No, more like he was straddling a fence. But what amazed me was the balance; he wasn’t wobbly at all and it wasn’t like he was clinging with his legs very much at all—like he’s done it a few times.” Uh-oh. “Then he held on, swung his other leg over so he was facing the crib and shinnied down to the floor. Never made a sound.”
I know it’s not a very loving and wifely sentiment, but damn I’m glad Nik did this on his daddy’s watch and not mine! Whew! We both kind of knew it was coming but thought we might have a little while longer before Nik made the cognitive leap to realize he already has the physical skill to get out of the crib.
It’s amazing to me this incredible spurt that Nik seems to be going through. In the past few weeks he’s just made amazing progress in so many areas. More on that in another post. I’m going to go pour myself a big glass of wine and recover from the shock…