Overboard...

Does anyone remember the bright yellow, suction-cup signs that read, "Baby on Board" which every parent in the late 80's had tagged onto the windows of their minivans and station wagons? Oh, yeah. THOSE!

Still laughing? I saw one displayed in the back window of a car on my way home from work today. Whoa... where does one begin to shop for one of those nowadays?
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Tonight, back at the homestead, I saw just cause for us to have rights to the "Baby Overboard" sign. That's right, it happened. Elaina fell out of her crib.

Umm.... maybe I shouldn't be so misleading to say that she "fell." That would imply somehow that maybe our crib wasn't safety approved, or by some strange chain of events, she happened to roll up and over the crib railing. Nope. Not the case. Elaina was unhappy about being put in her bed after our usual bedtime routine had run it's course and this mommy of hers attempted to lay her down for the night. She hiked her leg onto the rail and lunged herself forward and what do you get? A little girl on the ground and a mommy about to have a heart attack.

Unfortunately, I can't say that this is the very first time she has ever done this. When we were at my parents house a few weeks ago, I shared my room with Elaina and awoke just in time to see her trying to climb out of her pack-n-play. Last night, she was overly tired from our busy day and woke up as Eric and I were trying to get to bed. Eric put her and her tears into her crib and left the room. From our bedroom, we watched patiently to see how (and when) she would begin to soothe and console herself and fall asleep. Within the 15 minutes that it took her to settle down, she had lifted her leg to the top of the crib rail approximately 7 times. Each time that she didn't fall, I was able to breathe again and crossed my fingers that it would be the last time she did it.

So back to tonight, I laid a half asleep Elaina softly into her bed and just as fast as I did, she grabbed her blanket and stood up with outstretched arms, begging me to come back for her. I kissed her and proceeded out of the room to the second step down on the staircase, just around the corner from her room. Before I could even sit down and begin to peek in (like I usually do) I heard a thud and a hurt cry that overshadowed the "I-want-you-back-come-get-me- cry." I raced back up all of 2 steps and there she lay on her floor, head to the dust ruffle, feet to the door. I scooped her up, checked her over and held her tight until both of our hearts regained a natural rhythm. Surprisingly, she only cried for about 3 minutes until she was able to calm herself. I knew I couldn't rock her forever and wanted to be consistent. I kissed her and placed her back into bed and this time, sat on the floor, next to her crib. Of course, she stood back up with her outstretched arms and cried. I remained seated, 2 feet from her bedside, looking straight ahead. (a trick I learned on Nanny 911 or Dr. Phil - shows I haven't watched in at least a year) The only attention I paid her was when she tried to lift her leg to the rail again! I couldn't believe it! (For that, I did scold her.) From my peripheral vision, I saw her lay herself down and cry into her teddy bear. Nearly a dozen times, I caught her as she popped her head up, checking to see if I was still there and then I would only see one eye peeking up from time to time until, finally, the sweet deep- breathing sounds of a baby at rest. Hmmm... the trick worked! It looks as though we may have a new standard for bedtime fits.