The sound of running water assaulted my senses.
Without looking, I knew —even before I thought it— my son was not in the family room where I had left him mere minutes before. He was no longer safely ensconced in his triple-gated play compound; he had found a way past the eight-foot high stack of gates tethered together.
In a flash of panic it registered. Shit! I forgot to tether the gate!
I didn’t think I’d be gone more than an instant, saying goodbye to my mother in the driveway, when the police officer pulled up outside. We live on a cul-de-sac and have had some problems with our next door neighbor on one side. In fact, the whole court has had problems with this same neighbor which is why the police were involved; one of the elderly neighbors on the other side of us must have called them.
I’m not really sure if my feet even touched the stairs as I raced up them. I remember my shoes flying off my feet as I ran.
At the top of the stairs is the hall bath. The light was on, the water was running and the floor was wet; I couldn’t see into the tub until I got into the room. Relief and panic vied for dominance in the instant I realized Nik wasn’t in the tub. I screamed his name at the top of my lungs.
Nikolas! Where are you, baby?
There was no answer; I didn’t really expect one but my panicked instincts were at full throttle, suppressing all logical thought in the moment. I reached in to turn off the faucet; I remember thinking If Nik comes in here, he can’t drown now.
His bedroom door was closed —it’s always closed to keep the cats from getting into his crib. Still, devoid of lucid thought, I worried about all the dangers lurking upstairs. I threw his door open, expecting to see him happily playing on the floor. The room was empty.
NIKOLAS!! NIKOLAS ERIK!!
My throat was raw. I screamed as my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I dashed across the top of the stairs to the loft, quickly scanning to make sure he wasn’t under his father’s desk or sitting atop the cat climber —nearly twelve feet above the playroom floor below. Nik’s vision and depth perception would not keep him from attempting to climb over the railing to the room below. Not even realizing I’d been holding my breath, I let out a sigh of relief when I saw the loft was empty.
That’s when the sound of the shower in the master bathroom invaded my consciousness. Somehow, Nik had managed to slip through the very short bungee cord tether we use to keep the cats out (but let air circulate through) and got into our bathroom to play in the shower.
When I got to him, he was partly dressed —shirt askew around his neck and pants and pull-up around his ankles. The shower was running at full pressure —Nik having opened both valves completely—spraying all over the bathroom walls and floor as the door was fully open.
Nik was merrily humming quietly to himself. The cordless telephone was clutched in his hand as it hovered over the toilet bowl. I grabbed the phone and then pulled Nik away from the toilet. He was soaked. The floor was drenched. Lined up on the countertop were the other handset to the phone and the digital camera with the battery compartment wide open —and empty.
I looked into the toilet to see just what he’d done. Floating inside were my husband’s hairbrush, one of my hair styling brushes, the nailbrush which sits by the sink, and the batteries from the camera. (Thank goodness he hadn’t flushed!) I felt my heart unclench in my chest and my breathing became regular again.
Sinking to my knees, I gathered my sopping wet son into my arms, kissing his head. The tears fell fast and hard on his head but I don’t think he noticed; his hair was already wet. Baby, you scared Mama so bad. Please don’t do that again, sweetie, ok?, I choked through my tears.
I stripped my wet boy down and took him to the hall bath to let him play in a tub full of warm water. As he splashed and sang to his bathtub letters, I kept repeating to myself, It’s only stuff. It’s only stuff.
Omigod. Nik! Don’t scare us like that again!
I know you said on Twitter that he was OK, but my heart was TOTALLY in my throat throughout this.
Have a stiff drink. It’s on me.
Oh dear god. How terrifying. The couple of times I’ve lost a kid in the house have left me panicky.
Thank goodness Nik is okay. (and that it wasn’t your toothbrushes he’d tossed.)
O!M!G! I’m so sorry it happened, darlin.
These kids – we love them dearly, but I swear they will be the death of us.
‘
So glad that it was only stuff, and not the stuff that really matters.
love.
OMG. I would have been sick with fear. You are a great Mom!!
Oh my, it’s only stuff is right. I’m sorry you had such a scare! My heart was in my throat as I read this! So glad he is okay.
***HUGS*** Glad everybody is OK. Big honkin’ drink, babe.
I know that panic well. It’s horrible. I’m so relieved that Nik is okay. Hope you’re okay too!
Wow! That boy is fast… I’m so so so glad he’s safe and you’ve hopefully had a glass of wine by now. As I read this, I realized that nothing you’ve ever written before, fully articulates Nik’s safety issues as much as this does. For some reason, this post made me see all the lurking danger, the need for triple-stacked gates, the reasons why you can’t turn your back, and why you work so hard to create a safe place for him.
He’s one squirrelly dude, but I’m guessing he had a blast on this latest adventure!!
Oh, my dear, dear Kristen, this is just the tip of the iceberg. It’s not always like this but the days that are…are pretty bad or scary. Today was not the first time he’s done something like this. Last time I was shopping w/my mother and Niksdad was in charge. That was before we added the third gate…when we discovered his stellar climbing skills.
I can’t imagine, or maybe I can, which is why I am balling right now. No mom should have to think those thoughts. I’ve had to when bub (5ish) took off and I chased him only to come face to face with the end of a trail, a lake, and no bub. He was safe as was Nik (thankgod!!!), but I swear a piece of me was ripped out and my anxiety got infinetly worse. I’d like to say it never happened again, but you’ve seen the knife pictures etc. I’m so so happy and relieved nik was safe. I’m still sobbing for you both so I apologize if this comment makes no sense.
Ange, I understand completely. We live along a body of water which, thankfully, Nik has not discovered yet. It’s down a hill off the back yard. I would completely lose it if I ever thought he was there…it’s a fast moving creek which connects to the St. Jones river. We didn’t know it would be an issue when we bought; Nik wasn’t even walking then.
Wow. What a scare. And what a capacity Nik has for getting stuff done. He can sure accomplish a lot in a short time.
OMG. I wish I could write those three letters HUGE because that’s what I was thinking. I am SOOOOO glad he’s safe. I am SO grateful, and so sorry that this happened.
XOXO R
Hugs to you and Bubblyboy. I’m glad you’re both safe, save for a few more gray hairs on Mama’s head. Wow, he is fast!!!!
I’m telling you, I think my heart stopped while reading this. He is one fast kid. So very glad he (and you) are OK.
We need to get you the Extreme Makeover. Come on folks, let’s do it.
Sooo glad he’s okay. ((hugs))
Oh, crap, this was scary. I’m with Leightongirl – Extreme Makeover time. I’m just so glad he was okay. Phew.
My heart was thumping as I read this post. So glad all is ok—stuff, just another excuse to make a run to Target. Hugs all around.
Oh my :S
Beth I hope your heart rate has returned to normal and I’m so so glad Nik is OK. Hugs and love to you all xxx
What a fabulous mum you are
Someone else could have been angry and yelled but you only kissed your boy and repeated the mantra of “its only stuff “
Wow, my heart is thumping wildly. We’ve been there and as I was reading your descriptions I could smell the water, hear your screams, and picture your adorable Nik playing in the bathroom with not a care in the world.
Oh my. You must have been terrified. I’m so glad he was okay. And at least he didn’t throw the camera itself into the toilet, right? I tell you, that boy of yours is incredibly resourceful. I’m so glad everything turned out okay (except for the stuff).
I am so happy that everything is ok. It IS just stuff.
Oh honey – been there. Screaming for a child who didn’t yet respond to her name – the terror, the panic, the relief, the release.
Hugs.
Oh, you brought back memories that I could have kept locked away. I completely empathize with you, and am so glad that Nik was okay. Also been there, screaming for a child who doesn’t yet respond to his name. Conor got out of the house when we first moved to our new home, 4 years ago. I remember that fear and am so glad that both of our stories had a happy ending. xoxo
Seems like both our boys are water/toilet motivated. hurray (said in a monotone voice) Hope everything recovered from the toilet OK. Glad to hear the precious little guy is OK. Wondering – how many times does a mother’s heart stop in a child’s lifetime?
What a boy! I’m so glad he and you are okay. I was scared to death reading this. I know that fear and it IS only stuff, but how terrifying that must have been for you. Hope you’re breathing again. {Hugs}
Aren’t we parents spoil sports. He was having himself a wonderful time. I’m glad was you and not me, though.
I think you acted just right and didn’t overreact.
So scary. I’m glad he is okay. You poor thing!
Oh my goodness. I’m with everyone else – after reading this, even knowing there was a happy ending, my heart rate is still not back to normal. I can only imagine what it felt like to live it.
But, MAN, I love a happy ending.
Interesting. Thank you for that, however I also want to thank for something else. I suffer from color blindness (deuteranopia in my case). I use Chrome browser (unsure if that is of any importance), and a large number of internet sites are tricky to read due to an inconsiderate variety of colors used. On this web site, as the choice of colors is good, the website is quite tidy and simple to read. I have no idea if it was a intentional and conscious undertaking, or simply good luck, but I still thank you.