A series of events has led to me developing a serious love/hate relationship with this device. Its fanciness lulled me into thinking that it is going to alert me when Grady or Cole are screaming bloody murder . Because neither Keith nor I can sleep without a large fan creating a wind-tunnel effect in our room, so we can't hear anything beyond the bedroom door. Handy when you have visitors in our tiny house, but not so handy when you have two little babies ready to claw your face off when you don't respond to their cries. So, hence the presence of aforementioned flashy monitor.
Off to a rocky start...is what we were after the monitor failed me one night. How was I to know it was going to run out of batteries? I was in bed, waiting to hear babies cry and to see the little red lights flashing, but nothing happened. So I drifted off, thinking all was well in the boys room. When I woke up 2 hours later, and still saw no lights and heard no crying, I thought fantastic!, and got more sleep. Another hour later I woke back up, again, no crying, no lights. By now we were an hour and a half past their feeding time, and as much as I would love to think the boys will sleep through the night already, I knew that wasn't likely. So I thought I should check it out, just in case. And sure enough, there was Cole, all red faced and angry and Grady bellowing at the top of his lungs, demanding to be fed. This instant, woman! Turns out the monitor needed to be charged. Could I have checked this? Sure. Could I have plugged it in for a few minutes before I went to bed? Sure. But for the price one pays for one of these things, I kinda expect it to realize its low on the battery juice,hop off the bedside table and scurry over to the outlet to plug itself in. (thanks again to Aunt Linda for the monitor. It's fabulous, really).
So anyway, slightly my fault, but in the interest of feeling like a semi-decent mom I am shifting all blame to the monitor. This one night has led to a lack of trust, so now when I am in bed, lying awake staring at the monitor, I keep thinking are they really asleep, or is this thing's battery dead? About every hour I wake up thinking I hear crying, stare at the monitor, turn it off and then back on-you know, just to make sure it's really on- stare at it again, try to close my eyes to sleep again, hop out of bed anyway, run into their room anticipating Armageddon, only to find that they are sound asleep. See? Fast asleep.
I come back to bed, glare at the monitor for being right, apologize to Madam for waking her up once again, beg her to move out into Keith's side of the bed, (she won't, she's 12 lbs of stubborn dog) and to try to get a little sleep before they really do cry and the little lights flash red.For good measure, I also silently curse Keith for being able to sleep through all of this. Sleep deprivation makes for a vengeful Trudi.
PS. Tracy, that is your scarf in the background of the picture, you left it at our house, and I'm holding it ransom until you visit again.
PPS. If you don't get come to claim scarf in 2 weeks, it becomes part of my wardrobe. Sorry, those are our house rules. I'd make an exception, but you know what a stickler for the rules I am. And you know how good I look in off-white chenille.
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