Noah The Monkey

Noah takes his afternoon nap in our room.  The pack-n-play is nicely set up in there (okay, so Nick has to trip over it to get to bed each night, but oh well-he survives) and that way Caleb gets rest in his room, Noah gets rest in our room, and I get rest.

Which is very important to the balance of our family.

The other day, however, I heard Noah wake up from his nap and start talking quietly.  I gave him a few minutes to finish waking up when I suddenly realized that I was hearing his voice not through the monitor, but at the top of the stairs.

The little booger somehow got himself out of the pack-n-play.

Fantastic.

When I put him down for a nap today, I did not really think about him getting out.  I mean, that was three days ago and I actually forgot about it.  So, I put him down and went downstairs to enjoy a quiet Sunday afternoon with Nick and the Olympics.

It was only a few minutes later when we heard a noise at the top of the stairs.  We yelled, "Who's out of their room?" but heard nothing in reply.  As I was about to yell, "Who is ignoring us?" I saw a toy fall down the stairs.  I walked to the staircase and there he was.  Mr. Noah, almost to the bottom of the stairs.

My emotions were mixed with relief that he did not tumble down the stairs (as he now thinks that he is too cool to climb down on his belly) and diappointment that the pack-n-play was no longer an option for a peaceful afternoon.  I took him back upstairs, arranged the pack-n-play so that it was not near our bed (figured that was how he was crawling out) and tried again.

A few minutes later, I heard our toilet lid slam down.  I went up and there he was, in our bathroom, holding our toothbrushes.

At least the toilet lid was shut.

No idea how the monkey got out of the pack-n-play, but apparently we are done with napping in it.

My third child is always so much fun.