I Hate My Baby Monitor

My baby monitor can seriously go stick it where the sun don’t shine.  Lord how I have come to loathe this piece of technological equipment.  I used to have a love/hate relationship with the thing, but now I want to throw it across the room and watch it shatter into one million pieces.  I’m seriously considering packing it up with all of the clothes that no longer fit her and sending it to die in the garage.

I can see why we all love baby monitors, especially the fancy schmancy ones that tell you if your baby has stopped breathing and all that.  Very good technology for the worry that is bound to come with babies.  I mean, yes it’s creepy that we as parents go all Truman Show on our children and watch them sleep, and some of us even buy the WiFi enabled ones that are easily hacked so monsters can legitimately frighten children, but for the most part they seem like a good idea.  Well I am DONE.  I put it on every night when I put Charlotte to bed at 7 PM and leave it in the same exact spot I always do.  It is right on the night stand next to the alarm clock.  I never move the stupid thing.  I then climb into bed around 9 PM, because when you have an anti-sleep dictator in your life this is what you do, I read for a little bit and then turn off the light and get cozy.  Without fail, every single fucking night, right as I am drifting off, the fucking possessed monitor tells me it has no signal and starts beeping wildly.  I swear to God it knows I’m going to bed and just wants to ruin me.  It’s probably in cahoots with my daughter.  I can’t take it anymore.  And for what?  I know she’s going to wake the fuck up anyway so why do I need to see it happen?  BUT THENNNNNNNNNNNNNNN…

Last night I went to bed around 9, dealt with the beeping fuckery for a few minutes and drifted off to sleep.  The beast then roused around 11:30, to which I looked at the monitor with a fury in my sleep coated eyes and cursed her.  No fucking way was I going to get her at 11:30.  She never wakes up at that time anymore and I’m just not dealing with it.  I’M DONE CHARLOTTE, I mind shouted at the screen.  I proceeded to watch her walk around her crib and bang the crib bars screaming out like an angry monkey at the zoo for close to half an hour.  My fury grew with each cry.  I’M NOT COMING TO GET YOU SO JUST LAY DOWN is the mantra that went round my brain.  I cursed her a lot, as a sleep deprived mother is bound to do, and she finally went back down and went the fuck to sleep.  But I had worked myself into such a frenzy about how I wasn’t getting out of bed to tend to her fake ass needs that I was then awake for THREE HOURS.  At one point I was just awake because I was certain that she was going to wake up and want to eat, so what’s the point of even trying to sleep again, right?  Well I finally fell back asleep close to 3 AM, and what do you know?  Charlotte slept through the fucking night.  She went 7-5:30 without eating once and only had her brief half hour tantrum.  And I was awake for half of it.  She sure showed me.  And you know what?  I blame the fucking baby monitor.

 

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