Escape Artist

Earlier this week, Teddy was having a rough morning. He was in a sassy mood, trying to climb over the stair railing and was sad because we kept redirecting him. So he went into his room, vocalizing his displeasure. I had 5 minutes until my timer went off for the granola in the oven, so I figured I'd join him in his room to see if I could improve his mood. I laid down next to him, and he covered me with a blanket, left the room and shut the door. It's not uncommon for him to do this and then continue to open and shut the door, but I decided to beat him to the punch by opening the door ...

... except the knob wouldn't turn. I didn't panic completely because sometimes the door handles stick with the safety locks on them, so I pried off the safety lock. Yet the door knob still wouldn't turn. I was locked in Teddy's room. He was locked outside his room. We were alone in the house. I had no phone. Yikes.

His OT should be impressed. I am, but I'm not.

Fortunately, we keep a screwdriver in his room in case this happens, so I went to grab the screwdriver. But I couldn't find it. Now I was panicking, praying and sobbing while pulling things down off the shelf to look for the screwdriver. I still couldn't find it. 

Now, I'm short, and the shelves in Teddy's room are tall, so he can't pull things off them. That means I can't see on top of the shelves without standing on the bed (or bouncing to see further back). So I was jumping on his bed trying to find it, flinging things off his taller shelf. There is nothing to climb in his room (to keep him safe), so I didn't have many options to look and feel in the far reaches of the shelf. 

After I ripped down most things from the shelves, I didn't think I had any other option to make sure Teddy was safe for the hour until our sitter arrived. So I removed his window screen, asked him one more time if he'd open the door and used the fire safety escape ladder to get down to our deck one story below. Then I ran around the house, unlocked the door and the safety lock from the garage and walked inside to find Teddy staring out the window down the street. 

It's a lovely view, minus the rather unsteady ladder.

That's when I grabbed my phone to photograph the adventure of the morning and the step stool to put his room back together. Of course, when I wasn't freaking out, I was able to locate the screwdriver. I knew I was panicking because I know the trouble Teddy can get into in an instant (as is evidenced by him locking me in the room). I had tried to calm myself and slow down, yet I knew time was of the essence.

Fortunately, we were both completely safe. As we put his room back together, I discovered all sorts of fun books that had been shoved out of sight on his bookshelf. And I got some valuable fire safety practice skills, along with the opportunity to have AJ practice that evening (since the ladder is intended for single use, so we just did it right out on ground level to practice the motions). 

And, I also realized that it will be nearly impossible without strapping Teddy to me physically to get him down the fire safety ladder. I honestly thing the best bed would be to lay his pile of pillows on his sheet, lay him on top, and scoop up the bedding and lower it as low as I can before I drop him onto the deck, which would be not horribly far. I mean, he fell further without cushioning when he scaled the railing from the second floor. Are parents supposed to contemplate these things? 

Sigh. This child will be the death of me.