I awoke last night to Charlie crying in his room. I was physically exhausted from working in the yard all weekend so it took me a while to realize what the “noise” was and to wake up enough to realize I better go check on him. I had shifted him a few times before I went to bed because his legs were dangling off the side, so I knew there was a possibility he had fallen out of his toddler bed. Finally, half asleep, I staggered down the hall. When I got to their dimly lit room, I couldn’t find him anywhere! I was squinting and searching. He definitely wasn’t in his bed. There was one of his blankets on the floor and I touched it like three times thinking it must be him … but it wasn’t. But I could hear him. He was sobbing, and I was thoroughly confused.
I finally looked under his bed, and there he was. The poor little guy was stuck underneath! I seriously don’t know how he got there, but he must have fallen between the wall and the bed. Although it’s possible he fell, then rolled underneath and just kept rolling. I had to wake Matt up to move the bed while I pulled him out (the bed’s only a few inches high). After some comforting, he was fine and ready to go back to sleep. He had a large stuffed animal taking up quite a bit of space at the top where the rails were so I removed them. I spent the rest of the night with bad dreams induced by anxiety. But he’s fine and I think we took care of the problem.