I hear a lot of things through the baby monitor. The sweet sounds of cooing, the babbling of da-da, the grunting sounds of wanting picked up, the wails of being hungry, the thumping of the crib against the wall, the sound of a pacifier falling to the floor followed by a sweet "uh-oh," the neighbors putting their kids to bed. Wait a minute...the neighbors putting their kids to bed?!
Yep. That is exactly what I heard this last Friday evening. You see, I had been doing some rearranging in the baby's room and had unplugged the baby monitor in order to move the bookcase it was sitting on and I had forgotten to plug it back in. When I went into my bedroom to put some laundry away, I heard voices coming out of the baby monitor--and it wasn't anyone in my family! It was the neighbors getting their kids ready for bed.
At first I was perplexed at how this tiny little device could pick up sounds from across the street. Then I became fascinated as I sat and listened to the neighbors, as if I were a spy on a secret mission. Not long after that, though I began to panic. If I can hear them, then that means they can hear me!
Now, first, let me tell you a little something about my neighbors. The parents are the same age as we are and have six children. The mother of the family stays home and home schools the kids. The father of the family is a pastor. Pretty much Mr. and Mrs. Perfect. Yep. The pastor and his wife, also have gentle ways of putting their children to bed, which does not compare to the chaos that ensues in my household every night. I realized that this God-loving family has quite possibly heard my yelling and screaming and who-knows what else all through the baby monitor! Are there any words to truly describe that feeling of realization?
I then started thinking back at the times I have "lost it." You know what I mean. Those moments when the baby is crying, has poop up his back, and is trying to wriggle off the changing table all while the 5-year-old is yelling from the bathroom that he too has pooped and is incapable of wiping himself, so he must throw a fit because you are already up to your eye balls in poo and can't come to his aid as his jealousy issues come into play, so you scream to release the stress? You know, those moments.
Let's just say, I had too many of those kind of moments to recall that my blood pressure began to rise. Then I began to reflect on the type of mother I am. All because of that ^*^&*^%^ baby monitor! As if I didn't have enough guilt and feelings of inadequacy! Want to know where the baby monitor is now? That sucker is is in the trash!