Heater

We have electric wall heat in the apartment that we reside. Yeah, you guessed it, fun stuff that is!

Anyway after the first two chilly nights, this past fall, that I attempted to set Toby’s heater with the thermostat I was awoken by 2am to pretty disturbed crying in the room next to ours. Much like a slug, I removed myself slowly from bed and down and around the hall to Tobias’ room.  Upon opening the door the air within his room gushed out, revealing how hot, approximately 80 - 90 degrees, it had gotten. Ok, lesson learned . . . thermostats on wall heaters . . . at least ours . . . don’t work, necessarily.  So, since that incident, I leave his heater completely off at night . . . no worries, he’s got plenty of blankets, even a sleeping bag to curl under for warmth.  He doesn’t complain, so I haven’t worried.

Samuel on the other hand, his thermostat was working decently. I left it alone, set at one temperature . . . afraid to mess it up for night time, it remained that temp all day, all the time; to the disapproval of the hubby.

So, I didn’t think anything about the heater when I laid Sam down last night.  I woke up once during the night as though I had dreamed one of my kids was crying. I listened for a long time (a whole minute or two) before drifting back into sleep . . . not hearing a peep from the other rooms.

This morning the kids woke us bright and early around 7am. Justin and I lingered in bed, mostly dozing in and out for a bit and then we got to talking.  The boys sounded like they were happily playing, though I heard a screech from Sam’s room a couple of times.  Justin is rarely home in the morning to just wake up to . . . so I was in no hurry.

Oh, hold back the critism and judgment.  The guilt was lathered nice and thick when we opened Sam’s door to get him out of bed . . . an hour after I initially heard them wake up . . . to searing heat . . . like Mojave Desert.  UGH! Stupid heaters! His little cheeks were pink and I could tell he hadn’t slept well.

I am extremely sensitive to noises in the night . . . especially when it comes to my boys . . . and, except for the one time (which I thought was a dream), I heard not a peep.

I almost cried with guilt and angst over knowing he had suffered a uncomfortable night in the heat of the Sahara.

We went about our morning . . . after Sam gulped down over a cup of water and I apologized like a million times.  He enjoyed his pancakes. We hung out, said good bye to dad as he left for school and played on the patio . . . refilling his water every time I saw it empty.

I sat them up, a little early, for lunch at 11:15am.  They stared at their sandwhich but started in on the crackers.  I headed back for the dryer to fold clothes. I took about 5 minutes, walked back into the dining area and Sam was full out asleep in the highchair.   Tobias looked like he was headed that direction, so I managed to get them down for naps by 11:40 . . . earlier than usual.

And yes, the heaters are off.