Death of a turtle
It's a sad day in our house. Jack and his beloved crib soother, Turtle, have parted ways.
"It't not me, it's you," I think I heard Jack say. Turtle replied by pulling his head into his shell and refusing to play music anymore. I may have shed a tear.
Turtle, the crib soother by the nice Baby Einstein people, has been with us since Jack was about nine months old. He was so well-loved we took him with us whenever we traveled and we had one at each Grandma's house for sleeping there.
Our beloved Turtle
Turtle was good to us. Jack knew how to reach up and make him play the music and lights and it helped him fall asleep at night and soothed him back to sleep in the middle of the night and the early morning as well. Many a night I woke to hear a bang, followed by the strains of classical music on the monitor and gave thanks that Turtle was there so Mommy didn't have to stumble in there and help him get back to sleep.
But about five months ago, Jack learned how to flip the switch so Turtle would play continuously for 10 minutes. He had to stand or sit up to reach the switch correctly and there were nights we heard Turtle playing nonstop for 90 minutes after we put him to bed. That meant a certain little someone was sitting or standing up every 10 minutes to make this happen. It also meant someone was falling asleep verrrrrry late. But he never cried and generally amused himself in there so we let it go.
But we knew it had to end.
This week, I noticed Jack didn't play Turtle at all one night when he went to bed. I was stunned, but figured maybe he was really, really tired and went right to sleep. I checked on him about 15 minutes after he went to bed, and there were two little eyes staring at me when I opened, and quickly shut, the door. Hmm, that's weird, I thought.
Next morning, he slept in longer than he had been lately. After concluding he wasn't asphyxiated in his sleep when he did finally wake up at 8:30 a.m., I went in and he was pointing to Turtle with a concerned look on his face. I pushed the buttons and nothing happened. I pushed harder, and a weak strain of melody poured out.
A-ha! Batteries are running low! I am a quick one, aren't I?
But thinking he had done so well without Turtle, we elected not to put fresh batteries in. Each night since, he has fallen asleep quietly and relatively quickly and this morning, he slept until 8:45. Unprecented behavior for a non-sick Jack.
So Turtle hangs in the crib, silent for this world. Jack points to him every time we come into the room, as if to say, "It's so over. Why is he still here?"
Rest in peace, Turtle. We'll miss you.
"It't not me, it's you," I think I heard Jack say. Turtle replied by pulling his head into his shell and refusing to play music anymore. I may have shed a tear.
Turtle, the crib soother by the nice Baby Einstein people, has been with us since Jack was about nine months old. He was so well-loved we took him with us whenever we traveled and we had one at each Grandma's house for sleeping there.
Our beloved Turtle
Turtle was good to us. Jack knew how to reach up and make him play the music and lights and it helped him fall asleep at night and soothed him back to sleep in the middle of the night and the early morning as well. Many a night I woke to hear a bang, followed by the strains of classical music on the monitor and gave thanks that Turtle was there so Mommy didn't have to stumble in there and help him get back to sleep.
But about five months ago, Jack learned how to flip the switch so Turtle would play continuously for 10 minutes. He had to stand or sit up to reach the switch correctly and there were nights we heard Turtle playing nonstop for 90 minutes after we put him to bed. That meant a certain little someone was sitting or standing up every 10 minutes to make this happen. It also meant someone was falling asleep verrrrrry late. But he never cried and generally amused himself in there so we let it go.
But we knew it had to end.
This week, I noticed Jack didn't play Turtle at all one night when he went to bed. I was stunned, but figured maybe he was really, really tired and went right to sleep. I checked on him about 15 minutes after he went to bed, and there were two little eyes staring at me when I opened, and quickly shut, the door. Hmm, that's weird, I thought.
Next morning, he slept in longer than he had been lately. After concluding he wasn't asphyxiated in his sleep when he did finally wake up at 8:30 a.m., I went in and he was pointing to Turtle with a concerned look on his face. I pushed the buttons and nothing happened. I pushed harder, and a weak strain of melody poured out.
A-ha! Batteries are running low! I am a quick one, aren't I?
But thinking he had done so well without Turtle, we elected not to put fresh batteries in. Each night since, he has fallen asleep quietly and relatively quickly and this morning, he slept until 8:45. Unprecented behavior for a non-sick Jack.
So Turtle hangs in the crib, silent for this world. Jack points to him every time we come into the room, as if to say, "It's so over. Why is he still here?"
Rest in peace, Turtle. We'll miss you.
Labels: Jack
posted by Amy at
2:33 PM
3 Comments:
Ooooh - that is so sad. :( I have a hard time letting go of the baby things...I'm sure I hold onto them much longer than the kids ever need(ed) to but it's just so hard to say goodbye.
Rest in peace, Turtle. Rest easy, Jack. :)
It is a sad time here at Jack and Emmie's Grandparents house in New Berlin. We are very sad that Turtle will be silenced and I asked Grandpa to take the batteries out of the Turtle at our house and he said he was too sad to do the job right now. We know that Emmie will one day use Turtle, but it is still hard to look at the crib and see him there
as I have heard Turtle on the monitor many a night:( :)
Things happen for a reason -they just recalled this toy. The cute little turtle knew he had to shut himself down.
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