I suppose I could be talking about anything with that title- I could relay to you that once in high school theatre during a pre-show vocal warmup a dear friend of mine fainted at the last line of Oh Captain My Captain, which, by the way is “Fallen, cold and dead.” She was alive, but don’t lock your knees when standing for any extended period of time, because fainting can be what happens.

What I am talking about though, is my addiction to the baby-monitoring device No-Fuss Dad rigged up so that we could watch Mellow Little Person sleep. 

Let me put it out there: I realize it is possible, maybe even common to go without Big Brother in the kid’s room. I know that- you can open a door and look in. Maybe kiddo is in the room with you and you certainly don’t need a device to tell you if stirring, peeping, squealing, or lovey-wrestling is happening.

But have you ever watched a baby go from fuzzy-eyed to conked out? IT IS HILARIOUS. Or, in case of the sometimes wrenching process of sleep-training, puzzling/devastating all at once. For Mellow Little Person, the sleep schedule is all about timing. If MLP is too-tired, trust you me, there is a lot more theatrical howling and nest-creating before there are heavy eyes and an actual lying-down position. If MLP isn’t really quite tired enough, the little duckling is perfectly capable of spending an hour VERY QUIETLY rearranging the crib fauna. Without the camera, I wouldn’t have a surreptitious method of checking. While peeking through a slightly cracked door is fine when sleep has fully overtaken the toddler brain, peeking through a slightly cracked door at a slightly maniacal almost-about-to-fall-asleep-but-nope-eyes-are-open kid is akin to spooking a wild horse. Can’t recommend it.

A few weekends ago we decamped to Montauk for a couple of nights and were upstairs from our friends, who also have an energetic toddler. Background: I am proud to be a quiet walker. I don’t stomp. You can’t hear me when you are downstairs from me. However, you can hear an 18 month old BANGING ON THE WALL during a theoretical nap. I had forgotten the portable baby monitor and was relying on opening the door in the sneakiest, quietest way to see if in fact MLP had MAYBE LAID HIMSELF DOWN, but no, in fact he had not and was instead going all Mathew McConaughey on the wall. Later I asked my mama friend, oh, can you hear us, I hope not (assuming of course she can’t hear me, I walk as quietly as a beslippered mouse) and she got this look, thought for a moment and said, “You know, I think you were kind of stomping around.”

Agasp (this is a word I have adopted.) on the inside, I was quiet. 

I did not need a crib camera to blame MLP. But we won’t leave the baby monitor at home again.