"Three things," came the phone call that woke me up in New Orleans this morning.
"First - you were right." Uh oh. Hubs never tells me I'm right.
"Second - he's all right." Double uh oh. Why do things always happen when I'm out of town working?
"Third - I lowered the crib this morning."
Ahhhh. . . it's all making sense now. About three weeks ago, I wrote a little note on Hubs Honey Do list. 'Lower crib to lowest setting.' Hubs disagreed with me, stating that the kiddo was too young and didn't have the arm strength to propel himself from his crib and it would be too hard to put him down for a nap then, and yadda yadda yadda. I deferred to his reasoning, believing that there are two parents for a reason - sometimes one of them has to be wrong, and I guess this time it would be me.
But I wasn't. So I'm going to say it. Just this once.
I told you so.
I guess the story goes that as the Little Monster started crying this morning at 5:30 am (as he has begun to do recently, ugh), the Hubs let him cry for five minutes, and then Bjorn stopped. Which prompted Hubs to think he had fallen back asleep.
A good presumption. I have thought the same.
Ten minutes later, he cries again, so Hubs gets up to make a bottle and in the midst of stirring and mixing and formulating, he hears a 'thud thud thud' as if someone is knocking at the door.
But not the front door. Nooooo. Bjorn's door.
Walking in, he finds Bjorn at the door, sitting on the floor, trying to bust out of his room.
Somehow, by the wonderful grace of God, Bjorn has no bruises, no scrapes and no broken bones. He is not acting any worse for wear and he did not (thank God!) hit himself on any of the large, hard, wooden pieces of furniture situated around his crib as he somehow threw himself out of it. He also (thank God!) managed to not choke on any of the millions of little pieces of anything that could be on his floor because God only knows when was the last time I vacuumed.
We still don't know how he got out without Hubs hearing. We have a baby monitor, people. One so strong that I just told Kat yesterday that I can hear him breathing on the monitor. So how did he miss a climb/jump/flight out of a very tall crib?
And, really, how in the hell did Bjorn escape his crib? That's the real kicker. The over-priced baby monitor with attached TV screen? Would have been worth it just for this.