Dangerous Independence

Two nights ago, Shade demonstrated his ongoing need for independence.

Aitza and I had put the kids to bed. They are increasingly harder to get settled each day and have been staying up and talking while we repeatedly shout from below, “Go to sleep!” That never works. (Note: Ever since Shade’s accident, Mayan has slept in Shade’s room. Not sure why, but it seems to benefit both of them, so we’re cool with it.)

Finally, they settled and we assumed they were asleep. Aitza and I were hanging in the living room chatting when we heard a low rumble. Aitza shot me a concerned glance.

“I think that’s thunder,” I said.

It didn’t happen again, so we forgot all about it and continued our conversation. Suddenly Aitza paused in mid-sentence and cocked her ear. (She has the hearing of a police-trained German shepherd. She could hear a gnat fart in China.) Then she walked to the stairs and looked up through the railing to the second flight. Shade was sitting halfway down the steps with a big half-grin on his face. (We’re still working on that full grin.)

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he exclaimed.

Turns out, Shade didn’t want to risk waking Mayan by yelling for Mami or Daddy. (Such a thoughtful boy, although Mayan could sleep through a train crash.) So he slid the railing that we positioned to prevent him from falling out of bed (which I don’t really think he needs as he’s never, ever rolled out of bed, but we leave it there anyway). Then he stepped down onto Mayan’s bed. (They have a trundle bed: Shade on top, Mayan below.) He then lowered himself down and finally flopped onto the wood floor (creating the thunder rumble). He proceeded to army crawl across the floor, opened the door, and pulled himself to the stairs. He managed to twist himself around to a sitting position and started scooching down the stairs. That’s when Aitza’s Spidey senses caught on and she found him in flagrante delicto (which is not a dessert at Olive Garden).

We were between shock and hysterics. I took him to the bathroom and then put him back to bed. But he received a stern talking to, not just from us but from his therapists who gave him an earful about being safe and making wise decisions. Actually ST Giselle heard first and spread it to the other therapists, so Shade was calling her a tattletale today.

Now I’m constructing a barbed-wire cage to fit over Shade’s bed. Let’s see the little booger get out of that.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: