There aren’t too many moments where I get to be a total hero to my kids, especially as they’re getting older, and my heroic efforts are sometimes met with a roll of the eyes or a sigh that I can only interpret to be sarcastic.
But last night, I got to save the day (can you save the day at night, or did I save the night?). Dave has been away on a business trip, so I’ve been parenting solo. Sometime after midnight, Michael came up to my room, shaking, having been awoken by the beeping of a smoke detector with a low battery. On a side note, why is it that 90 percent of the time, this does NOT happen in the middle of the afternoon, but shocks someone out of a deep sleep with that annoying sound??
Anyway, since our house was renovated relatively recently, we are up to code with our smoke detectors, which means there are several on every level of the house, and one in every bedroom. I know that’s a good thing in the unlikely event of a fire, but it’s incredibly annoying in the much more likely event that I’m going to have to stumble around in my pajamas, trying to figure out where that infernal beeping is coming from because a battery is dying. Michael, who was still shaken by being woken up, insisted on following me around the house, until I figured out (after just 3 beeps – yay, me!) that the battery needed to be changed in his room. I’ve learned to keep the 9 volt batteries in an accessible kitchen drawer, found something to stand on so I could reach, and had the whole problem solved in less than 5 minutes. Oh, and the other kid slept through the whole thing.
My victory was met with a sleepy “thank you,” and a tight hug from a pajama-clad 8-year-old. Could there be anything better?
The majority of my triumphant parenting moments these days revolve around finding lost stuff. A few weeks ago, I found an iPod that had been missing for several weeks. It was left on a bookcase, under a piece of paper. You would have thought that, based on the reaction, I’d found Michael Jordan or a big stack of cash under that piece of paper. But I’ll take it.
Now, I do realize that if one of the smoke detectors on the higher ceiling in my bedroom needed a new battery, I’d kind of be screwed, but for now, I’m going to focus on my victory.
One thought on “I am a rock star.”
It’s the little things