Evan has been a little iffy on his naps lately. About a week ago, I put him in his room for his nap, and like he often does, he whined a bit and was at his door turning the nob. We have one of those safety things on his door due to the fact that his room is on the second floor, so he wasn't going to open it, although he gave a good effort.
After a few minutes, I went up to put him back in bed.
Only, I couldn't get the door open.
It was locked.
We've lived in this house for a year now, and we've never given thought to the locks on the inside doors. Now some inside doors have those locks that just push in. With these, you have to push in and turn to lock it. He can't get to the lock because of the safety plastic thing on his door knob, but I guess with him messing with it so much, it became locked?? I don't know, but I do know that my baby was quite upset because there I was on the other side of the door, and I wasn't opening it.
I tried hangers and paper clips--didn't work. I called John; he suggested kicking in the door...yeah, right. I went outside to get the heavy duty ladder--John had just been trimming the trees the day before--but even with Matt's help, I couldn't get the ladder propped up against the house--it came falling down on me (which I'm guessing is where the huge bruise on my arm came from; I didn't notice it until the next day). I have very little upper body strength.
By this time, I'm crying because he's crying and doesn't understand why I'm not getting him. I called John again, and he suggested going over to ask our neighbors for help. So I went over there, tears in my eyes, and explained the situation. He smiled, said his boys used to do that (they have grown children), and that his wife had something she used to open doors. He goes inside, tells her about it, and she comes out with a very small screwdriver. Basically, she couldn't get it open either.
So, it had been probably 45 minutes, and he's still crying. I call her husband, and he comes over with a few more tools---still, nothing.
I tell him that if he could get the ladder up against the house, I'll go through the window. I knew it wasn't locked, because I had just closed it before Evan's nap.
We go out, he gets the ladder up, and then I start the climb. Not a big fan of heights, but, this wasn't too bad. BUT, he had put the ladder to the left of the window, and when I got close to the top---as far as I thought necessary---he gently told me I would have to go two steps higher. That's when I really started to feel a bit uncertain about being up there. I slowly made my way up those two steps and cut the screen.
The next step was to remove one leg from the ladder and put it through the window.
Evan grabbed that leg. As I'm in the air with one leg halfway through the window, my neighbor tells me that I'm going to have to take my other leg off the ladder. Oh, yeah....Okay, at this point fear sets in a bit, but I knew I had to do it--I had to get to my baby! So I get my leg off the ladder, and there I am, straddling the window sill. The window isn't that big; I had to wiggle my way in...it felt like I was stranded there with one leg in and one leg out a long time, but I'm guessing it really happened in seconds.
I know, going up a ladder isn't that big of a deal! But it was!!! I used to climb tall trees when I was younger; I'm not sure when my fear of heights set in.
Yeah, John took the lock out of his doorknob that night.