He only got out of bed once tonight. I have no idea if he's learning or if he just wasn't in the mood to try again tonight. I am very worried for the next time I have a sitter...! Thankfully this isn't until the 17th, so maybe I'll have a sense of how frequent these escapist moments are going to be.
I drove up to ikea to look at toddler beds today...but fell short of buying one. I'm not convinced he's old enough for that...but it's got to be safer than his catapulting himself over the top of the pack 'n play all the time. Some Facebook friends recommended a "crib tent", but when I googled to find one all I got were reports of how they've all been recalled for strangulation hazards, and they're really expensive, and it's a moot point if it really is time to move him up to a bed.
So after an exhausting day of moving crap out of reach and closing doors and chasing him around and cleaning tons of crap off the floor, I was at my wit's end, and nearly in tears, and was thinking how much easier things would be if there were a man around here - he could baby proof the place, install all the doors I need, and build the wall. A friend called and I said this to her, and she just laughed. Having a grown son herself, she said if I were married all that would happen is the husband would never get around to doing these things, wouldn't allow me to hire anyone to do it (because he's going to do it when he gets around to it), I would be stuck alone with a rampaging toddler all day being tortured, and then he'd expect a clean house, dinner on the table, and me looking put together when he gets home. I had to laugh out loud when I heard this, knowing it's true of practically every marriage I've ever been witness to. We Single Mothers By Choice types do tend to romanticize the advantages of having a partner - forgetting that mostly they're just another pain in your ass. Would a husband have been ok with me watching documentaries all afternoon while Bumpus tore the mail into little pieces? Yeah, no.
So thanks for the reality check! The fact is soon enough this house will be settled, B will be in his own room in a big boy bed where I don't have to worry about him getting hurt, and I will no longer have to be concerned about hazards. We'll figure it out. And in the meantime I don't have to worry about having dinner on the table for anyone but us. My sister once overheard a woman in the Bronx saying to her friend, "the only men I want in my house are my son and the baby Jesus." Amen, sister! Snap-snap.