Third Floor Heaven

My husband proposes this idea way before Bambino was born to move our master bedroom to the third floor.  I was pregnant with Bambino at the time and I didn’t feel like going up or down the stairs to get to The Don.  I thought about what if he needed me.  I thought about the easiness of walking down the hall to get to him.  However, there was problem with this logical.  The second floor hallway isn’t the most quietness of hallways.  It’s all wood and it creeks and cracks when you walk down it.  I have to be careful to walk close to the walls or remember which floor board not to step on so it wouldn’t make noise. 

When The Don has his quiet time and I have to go to the bathroom, I would have to ease my bedroom door open, walk barefooted because my slippers made noise and go to the bathroom.  If I made one peep, The Don would come rushing to his bedroom door and ask to be let out.  “Quiet time’s not over yet,” I would tell him.  Walking in the hallways in the early morning is the worse.  It’s very quiet and the noise from the floor seems to echo throughout the house.  If I have to go to the bathroom around six or six thirty in the morning, I have to walk without my slippers, walking as carefully as a cat sneaking through the house across the floor.  What a pain.

After being in Bambino’s bedroom for about six months, my husband mentioned again that he wanted to move the master bedroom upstairs to the third floor and turn our old bedroom into a writing/computer room.  At this point I loved the idea yet I thought about what if the kids needed me.  I didn’t want to go down the hall, to the stairs, and down to the second floor especially since Bambino was so young.  But the idea was intriguing.  What would it be like to have our own floor, our private floor without creeping around downstairs hoping we wouldn’t wake the kids up?

So when Bambino turned eight months, my husband moved everything from our old bedroom to the new one on the third floor.  The first night sleeping in the room, I felt guilt and selfish.  I left my babies downstairs alone and if they needed me I couldn’t get to them quick, fast and in a hurry.  I had the monitor’s levels up high just in case Bambino cried or The Don was upset about something.  Nothing happened.  As the weeks went by, The Don didn’t make a peep and Bambino may have waked up once or twice in the middle of the night but it wasn’t an emergency. 

So I accepted that the children don’t need me like that.  But what I didn’t expect was to enjoy the freedom of walking down the hall without worrying that my footsteps would wake the children.  Not only that, I can take a shower and not wake The Don and as soon as I get out of the bathroom…SILENCE, oh yeah the children are downstairs HOORAY!  Now what was I worried about again.


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