The Man in Emily's Room
Last night I took about 5 years off my life. Let me explain.
It’s about 1:30. I am asleep in bed, as you would imagine. All of a sudden, I hear Emily cry. Not the Mama come get me, I hate this crib kind of cry, but the OMG GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW SOMETHING HORRIBLE IS HAPPENING screech. Of course, I leapt out of bed, opened our bedroom door to go to her room. That’s when I noticed that her room was open. Her room is NEVER open. We shut it at her bedtime, because Tony and I are just too loud and we don’t want to wake her up. Not only is the door open the cat is running out of there like the house was on fire. I started to run. I mean, the door isn’t supposed to be open, the cat is making for the next county, it’s the middle of the night and my baby is screaming her lungs off. I go flying in there and although the light is off, I can see a MAN holding my baby girl. Well I let out a scream that would curdle milk. And the second I stopped screaming, I realized it was Tony. DUH. The relief was instant and so overwhelming that I promptly collapsed on the floor and started bawling my eyes out. The adrenaline rush and then the instant relief, coupled with the fact that only 30 seconds earlier I had been dead asleep, well, to put it nicely, I was hysterical. I was crying and laughing at myself at the same time. I couldn’t breathe. It was horrible. Tony had to turn on the light, put Emily on the futon and come pick me up and hold me up until I calmed down.
Apparently Tony had gotten up 15 or 20 mins before this to go to the bathroom. He then decided he was awake (he is a terrible insomniac) and was heading toward the guest room to watch TV. That’s when he heard Emily start fussing so he went in there to hold her for a bit and convince her to go back to sleep. I never heard any of that. I am the world’s lightest sleeper, and I didn’t hear him leave the bed, the room, Emily’s initial crying, nothing. She only started screaming bloody murder when he tried to put her back to bed. He was being a good daddy, and here I am charging into the room like he is some serial killer who has broken into the house to steal my child. *sigh* Let me tell you about the grief I caught for that. Tony kept saying to me, I LIVE HERE. I’m SUPPOSED to be here. He called me kuku for coco puffs for the rest of the night. It’s funny now, but seriously, Tony didn’t even enter my mind at all last night until I realized it was him holding Emmy. Apparently I’m not used to living with a boy yet. What did enter my mind was Elizabeth Smart, that poor girl who was stolen right out of her own bed in her own house in the middle of the night. I had been talking about that just the other day with some friends (hi Jeff & Jill) and I had said to them how insane I would be if something happened to our Emily. I would lose my mind. I mean, lock me up throw away the key, lose my mind. Now I have proof that this is true. Because seriously if that hadn’t been Tony in the room, I think I would have killed whoever it was before I even realized what was going on. I was that wound up. I’m pretty much a pacifist, so that’s saying something.
The only good thing about giving myself a stroke last night was that Emily completely stopped crying as soon as I started. Tony was all for putting her back down, but I told him no way, all three of us were going to our room to sleep together. I needed to hold her for awhile. Emily was out cold in 5 mins, so I did put her back to bed. But I wasn’t right for about an hour. I was just too wound up.
Everyone is fine today, although I’m sure my lifespan is a good 5 years shorter than it was yesterday morning. Sheesh. I’m a super dork.










