We came to the end of an era today. I try to use my dusting time as purging time as well: usually, I’m just collecting waywards papers and shoes or the bits and bobs of child detritus (how many rubber bands can one stash on a baby doll crib, anyway?). Sometimes, though, I find larger things to move along. Today, I actually removed two: a lamp we don’t use or like and the baby monitor.
That’s right. Eliot is nearly four years old, and we each had an end of a monitor. The hardest cord to sever, I think. To me, this marks a greater step forward than the tiny dinosaur underpants I fold and he puts away. He has been sleeping through the night for more than a year now, since he was nearly three, but I liked having that touch to his space, to hear him breathing heavily or just tossing under his blankets. He didn’t give up having me retrieve him from his bed until this summer, so I also needed a way to hear his “Mama? Mama! MAMA!” before he woke Birdie.
Now, though? Almost four. He sleeps all night. He doesn’t require me actually IN his room to fall asleep. He counts down from ten snuggles. And he gets up and stealthily sneaks into our room, past Daddy’s side of the bed, to lay on the floor by my bed or to stare at me until I peek back at him from under my bundle of duvet. He sometimes even comes in, sees us sleeping, and goes back out. No longer can we hear him quietly playing cars or reading books as we drift in and out of early morning sleep, but he has proven himself capable of playing quietly and safely, so I think we’re good.
He hated that little red light on the monitor perched on his bed. I dropped it off on the floor, then I stopped turning my end on. If it’s not close enough for his breathing, why bother?
So, good night, sweet boy. Time to quit whispering. Time to kiss your doggies good-night and snuggle under your blanket. I’ll hear you in the morning.