Tap, Tap, Tap

It’s a sad, sad day in our house.

It’s a day that I wasn’t ready for.

Let me back up.

It was nap time for Caroline.

Or so I thought.

After I placed Caroline in her crib she insisted she was not tired.

She disagreed with my plan by pounding on the wall and screaming.

I let her scream for 10 minutes, perfectly secure in my parenting abilities, knowing she needed rest.

And then the crying stopped.

I knew it. She’s exhausted and has finally given into sleep.

For a moment I sat on my bed with a bag of chips continued folding laundry.

But then I heard an unfamiliar “tap, tap, tap” sound coming from the baby monitor.

I walked over to the monitor and pressed the video button.

It took a moment for the image to come up.

While waiting, the “tap, tap, tap” sound continued.

What could that sound be? She had two baby dolls and a blanket with her in bed.

The monitor’s picture finally came up.

Clear as day was her crib.

But…Caroline was not in the crib!

I searched the screen desperately, telling myself the bars of the crib were some how obstructing my view of her body.

No, no, no. This can’t be happening. I need her to take naps still. I need her to be contained in a box with no hope of getting out.

I walked upstairs to her room and tried to peek under her door to no avail.

The carpet was blocking my view.

Surely she must have brought a toy into bed with her which I didn’t notice. Surely she must have the skinniest profile ever and is sitting in that crib tap, tap, tapping away.

I finally gathered enough mental strength and opened her door.

There she sat on the floor trying to put the pieces into a farm puzzle.

“Tap, tap, tap.”

After a moment she noticed me.

An enormous grin spread across her face.

She said, “hello.”

My face didn’t quite say that.

Needless to say we’re off to IKEA tonight to find a little bed for her.

I’m thinking of customizing it with straps for nap time.

This entry was posted in bedroom, caroline, family, nap time, observations, parenting. Bookmark the permalink.

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