There is a specific moment during the course of a cold where the post nasal drip has stopped its irritation and morphed into something else, where the nose has stopped running, if only temporarily, where the sneezes are at bay, where the sinus pressure is causing a sensation closer to dizziness than pain, a dizziness that is similar to that feeling one might get after a glass of wine, when you realize that your mouth is closed and you can breathe through your nostrils. A complete breath of air. It’s a moment of clarity. It feels like nothing else. It feels like bliss. It feels like zen. Like nirvana. It is peace. It is calm. At least, to someone who has a lifelong history of respiratory issues of one sort or another (though, thankfully, nothing serious). You exclaim to yourself, Oh! So this is what it feels like to breathe! Your mind races with excitement as you dream of how good it would feel to be able to breathe this way all the time. How energizing, to have that much oxygen at one’s disposal! And then the moment passes.
We have a new world order around Chez Squished. The boy is sleeping alone. Through the night. All night. In his own room. Without a bottle. A moment is in order to digest the magnitude of this fantastic milestone. Of course, measures have been taken to make this come about. It’s been a journey, beginning with the decision, for safety’s sake, to put him in his own room, followed by a fairly successful first night. We learned that the tension style safety gate in his doorway makes him feel too abandoned or trapped. I found a set of Kidco safety gates on Craigslist for a bargain, and we now have a very secure stairwell. I’ve put tension gates in the doorways of the other rooms, and left his room open, and my room open. He now has a free path to our room should he need it, if he wakes up afraid. Simply having an open doorway has done wonders for his perception of things. And, since I’m married to Mr. Gadget, we now have the child on nighttime surveillance.
The camera is mounted so that I have a full view of my munchkin all snug as a bug in a rug. Mr. Gadget claims to have had these gadgets all along (the usual story), and is just retrieving them from the places where he’s had them squirreled away. I do know that he won the mini DVD player in a company raffle, so that gadget is legit. The others Not so sure. But I’m not complaining. In my sleepy stupor I can press a button and check in on my sleeping munchkin. I can see if he’s scooted his way out of his blankets or if he’s scooted himself into the corner. Tomorrow is our first Saturday with this arrangement, which means I can sleep in (or at least pretend to). I’m looking forward to seeing if he wakes up happy and comes looking for me, or if he stops to play with his toys along the way.
