In a moment of sheer exhaustion, I inadvertently locked my 2-year-old daughter, Lucy, in her bedroom. Let me clarify: it was an accident.
At 3 AM, we were deep into our fourth consecutive night of attempting to train Lucy to sleep in her own room. That meant four nights filled with restless interruptions and precious little sleep—each night bringing me closer to the edge of sanity.
A heart-wrenching cry pierced the fog of my semi-comatose state. I groggily stumbled down the dimly lit hallway, feeling like I was wading through molasses. When I finally reached her room, I found my sweet little girl, fed, bathed, and seemingly content, yet still crying. The room was a sanctuary adorned with her favorite toys, plush animals, and the cozy bed she chose herself. But there she was, still howling.
In my bleary haze, I mustered some semblance of care, patting her back and attempting to soothe her with the few comforting words I could manage. After all, I was desperate for sleep. “Okay, Mommy needs to sleep now,” I mumbled, shuffling toward the door.
As I grasped the doorknob, a sudden thought struck me: what if she climbed out of bed and wandered into my room for the fifth time that night? The idea was unbearable. So, without fully processing the implications, I turned the lock and gently closed the door behind me.
The instant I heard the lock click, panic set in. I had locked my toddler inside her room from the outside. Overwhelmed, I crumpled to the floor in tears, waking my husband, Mike, who was bewildered and trying to make sense of my sobs. “Why did you lock the door?” he asked, incredulous.
“Because I’m a horrible mother!” I wailed, feeling utterly defeated. In our new home, we had no clue if keys existed for the bedroom doors. We searched high and low, even peering above the seven-foot door frames, all while I was blinded by tears.
Lucy, initially calm, began to sense my distress as I tried to guide her through the process of unlocking the door from her side. Her tiny fingers struggled with the complex maneuvers I suggested. “Mommy, I can’t. Open the door,” she pleaded. My sobs told her everything she needed to know: I was stuck too. We sat there, separated by a mere two inches of wood, both crying in despair. I berated myself repeatedly, feeling like the worst mom ever.
After what felt like an eternity, around 4 AM, my father arrived with his tools. After several failed attempts to pick the lock and discussions about drastic measures like knocking the door down, Mike finally managed to force the handle down. With a pop, the door swung open.
There lay Lucy, peacefully sleeping, surrounded by her stuffed animals, drool pooling on her pillow. Somehow, she had managed to use the bathroom during the whole ordeal, all by herself. As we exchanged relieved glances, the tension melted away.
I returned to my bed, whispering to myself, “One day, this will be a funny story—just not today.” Perhaps today is that day. While this incident may not top the list of parenting wins, it certainly reflects the reality of being a tired, human parent navigating the chaos of life.
The next morning, I apologized to Lucy, who smiled back at me in confusion, seemingly unaware of the drama from the night before. It dawned on me that the experience was much harder on me than on her. That night, she slept soundly in her own room once again.
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Summary
A mother recounts the harrowing experience of accidentally locking her 2-year-old daughter in her bedroom during a sleepless night of sleep training. Overwhelmed by exhaustion and panic, she navigates the emotional turmoil of the situation, ultimately finding humor and relief in the aftermath.
Keyphrase
Sleep-Deprived Parenting Mistakes
Tags
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