So I was sitting here minding my own business, checking a few blogs, watching “America’s Got Talent” when I heard it….talking coming from the boys room. I stopped my blog stalking in disbelief, hoping against all hope that it was a fluke. Maybe a sound coming from the hallway? A neighbor’s child? Oh darn, none of our closest neighbors have young kids. The tv? Nope, it was on mute. There it was again!
I blew out a sigh of frustration and crept slowly towards the white door. I listened carefully with my radar mommy-ear only to hear….Zakkai happily chattering. Not the mumbling of a boy deep in sleep, or calling out after a bad dream. Happily. Chatting. I opened the door to find that bright eyed (yes, bright eyed at 9pm) spunky little 2 year old sitting on the heater, peeking out the window. I stalked over with new energy bursting through my body and snatched him up and layed him down in bed. “Zakkai! What in the WORLD are you doing?!” I stage whispered. I felt around for the blankets to tuck him in and encountered a diaper. Where in the world did he get a diaper from? Unless….sure enough, my hand touched bare flesh and I realized that my son was naked from the waist down.
I straightened out the crumpled diaper and positioned it under his body, ready to wrap him up securely when i saw something. Extra clothes wrapped around his body. What was this? I pulled and twisted and found not one but two pairs of jammie shorts wrapped around his waist. In the dark, gleefully staying up waaaaayyy past his bedtime, this ornery toddler had decided to dress himself. He found an extra pair of shorts that I must’ve forgotten to put away and, in a charming 2 year old way, stuck his legs through one leg hole and pulled the shorts up around his waist. Both pairs of them. I fought back the grin as I redressed him and tucked him in. I admonished him to go to sleep and as I turned to leave, I noticed that the blankets covering the window were coming down, courtesy of my night wanderer. I hoisted myself up onto the heater to fix the crooked blankets only to step in a cold wet puddle. I froze, hardly daring to believe the thought that flashed through my mind. Please, oh, please tell me that wasn’t…pee. It was. Muttering under my breath I cleaned up the mess and my feet and crept back out of the darkened room, past my slumbering 4 year old. I closed the door and sat down to wait.
50 minutes later….I hear silence. Silence is golden.