My imagination is constantly locked in overdrive, which would be great if I channeled it to write a children’s book, draft a screenplay, or devise a plan that would result in my husband actually using the hamper. But instead, I use it to scare myself. When Dylan is walking on the tile, I envision him slipping and cracking his teeth on the floor. When I’m driving behind a loaded truck, I see the objects coming loose and striking my vehicle. And when I prepare dinner, I think about the mad cow disease I’ll develop five years from now. It’s a form of psychological terrorism that compels me to triple check that the front doors locked, the irons unplugged, and that there isn’t a stranger in my closet. So it’s was no surprise that when Dylan was born, he became a big star in my crazy alternative reality.
During the whole baby shower registry process, I swore to my husband that we didn’t need a baby monitor. I chalked them up to be unnecessary stalker devices that would force me to listen to much more than I wanted to. “Trust me, if he cries, you’ll hear it,” I would tell my husband as he urged me to at least look at them. I didn’t, but I received a basic one at my baby shower anyway. And THANK FREAKING GOD! I should have known myself better and taken my knack for hypothetical possibilities in consideration before ruling against them because of all crap piled in Dylan’s room, the monitor has proven to be the most useful (and my favorite).
When Dylan got his first 103 degree fever, it was the activity on his monitor that prompted me to check on him, only to find him swaddled, overheating, and too weak to wiggle himself free. And the silence from the monitor is what affords me peace of mind when I sit in bed late at night and imagine Dylan choking, being kidnapped, or the scariest: waking up. Now days my only issue with the stalker device is that it doesn’t stalk enough. I want the wifi model that streams video on any device wherever I am, and I want Dylan to take it with him to daycare because a mom’s gotta know, you know? Sometimes I even imagine a baby monitor that works two ways and would allow me to mess with Dylan by making strange noises and watching his reaction. What can I say? I like to have fun! But before you judge me, do know those types of monitors actually exist.
Had I invested just ten minutes reading this monitor buying guide from BabyLull.com like my husband asked me to, I wouldn’t have been so adamant (okay fine, stubborn) about not spending money on one. But for someone like me, who has a vivid, intense, free flowing imagination, I can’t even imagine my life without a baby monitor. My only question is, as he gets older do I have to take it out?
P.S. I realize that when I really believe in something, I come across as a cheese ball sales gal. So I thought I should mention that I did not receive any product/compensation/or anything from BabyLull.com for mentioning them in this post. BabyLull.com is a business based in North Carolina that I’m simply a fan of. They are kind, helpful, and won me over with their plethora of resources, clean web design, and family first, business second attitude. But if they did want to gift me a monitor, I want this one.