Being a complete and utter moron in need of an intravenous infusion of common and perhaps a few smacks on the head, I put him back into his crib. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened next, but at least this time, I stuck around to see how the little rug-rat got out. Through a convoluted series of gymnastic maneuvers that I didn't think were possible for someone as small and uncoordinated as this little guy, he managed to pull his entire body up onto the crib rail, teetered on the edge, and then nonchalantly sent his body hurtling toward the floor headfirst. (You would've thought that two face-plants in a row would've dissuaded him from going headfirst, but then again, I'm the brain surgeon who put him back in his crib three times in a row thinking I might have a different outcome.)
I really, really wasn't ready to put him in a big boy bed yet. I can't tell you how much I wanted to wait until he was 10 before making that transition. I'd recently read an article by purported child experts saying that kids can't put a lid on their impulses to run around the room and get into danger until they're at least three. And here was my bruised son at one and one-half playing circus act. Great.
I could've gone out and bought one of those tent-like contraptions I'd seen in a baby product catalog that covers the top of the crib with mesh so Jonah couldn't get out. Then he would've been in his crib longer and stayed put. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd truly be caging him, my little monkey, like some sort of zoo exhibit. My husband Scott agreed that giving him his crib freedom was the best option.
We took out an old futon and put it on the ground next to his crib to see if he'd sleep there before getting him a formal twin bed. He absolutely loved it. Talk about a free for all. This kid was a little wind-up toy. Tell him it's naptime and watch him go like the Road Runner, running in circles and laughing. We had to put a doorknob cover on his door because not only was he spending naptime ransacking his room, he figured out how to get out of his room. It was very unnerving to find him standing silently beside my bed clutching his beloved blanket one morning, staring at me until I awoke. I had no idea how long he'd been there. I bought the doorknob cover that day.