Some of you know me and know that my profile name means my kids. If you've read my stories, you know that I've lost 5 babies. When I was pregnant with my son Dalton, who is now 9, I was so afraid of losing him. I'd lost 3 babies within 9 months before getting pregnant with him, and was expecting every day to lose him too. So I, unconsciously, shut off my gifts. I didn't want to take a chance on anything happening to my baby. I know what a lot of you are thinking, but unless you've been there, you will not even be close to understanding what I was going through.
Dalton was born October 31, 2001. We moved the week before his 1st birthday. This first experience happened within 6-8 months after moving into this trailer. Just recently I jokingly told one of my friends that I think all trailers must be haunted; they must blow the ghosts in with the insulation LOL. Well, at least the ones I've lived in anyway.
When Dalton was about 1 1/2, I'd put him in his crib to take a nap. I had put the mattress as low as it could go, which means when standing Dalton's eyes were level with the top bar, bless his little heart. To say he wasn't happy about being in the crib would be a major understatement. My little man was very vocal in his displeasure. He was sleepy and unhappy, which made for a very loud and angry baby. Leaving him in the bedroom to cry himself to sleep, yes I'm one of those moms; I went back into the living room with my daughter Jerrica.
For several minutes, we sat there trying to listen to the TV over the sounds of Dalton yelling. At one point Jerrica asked me if I wouldn't just go get him so he'd shut up. I told her he'd fall asleep in a few minutes. He just hated his crib. It seemed like just a few minutes later, there was silence. I told her "See, I told you he'd just give up and go to sleep." You should have seen our faces when we heard these little footsteps coming down the hallway. Here came Dalton just toddling along, this huge smile on his face.
He came into the Living Room and climbed up into my lap. Jerrica looked at me and asked me how he got out of his crib. I was dumbfounded. Not a freaking clue. I picked Dalton up, took him back into the bedroom, put him back in his crib (yeah, I know LOL), sat down and watched him. After repeatedly trying to figure a way out, Dalton finally gave up, lay down and went to sleep while I sat there and tried to figure out how in the world he got out of there. There was physically no way he could have gotten out of that crib without someone lifting him up and out. He had no toys in the crib that he could have stepped on to have used as "blocks" to climb on. He couldn't climb the rails. He was way too short to have just pulled himself up and over. Dalton never got out of that crib again. At that point it didn't occur to me that he might have had help. It wasn't until a few years later, when I was reading a story on another ghost site of someone who had the same exact experience, that I realized this might have been a ghost experience.
We had lived there for almost three years before anything else unusual or unexplainable happened, at least that I was aware of. I asked a psychic why I didn't "have" anything at this home. It was kind of weird not having a ghost there, since I'd always had at least one. She told me I had closed myself off and I realized she was right. After I had Dalton, I was still so worried that something would happen and I would lose him, that I guess I stopped wanting to believe I had this connection with ghosts. I was afraid something would happen to my kids. I had experienced a really bad one a couple of years before I got pregnant with Dalton and knew they were out there too. This woman told me, if I wanted to... Really wanted too... To let myself open up again and they would come. Within a week, they came.
The first thing I noticed was my commode would flush by itself. Yes, everyone has told me that commodes sometimes do that. But this one only did it really early on Sunday mornings. At first I thought maybe it was Jerrica, but I checked and she wasn't up any time it happened. It never happened any other day, just Sunday which my warped sense of humor finds highly amusing. Since I don't sleep in, even on the weekends, I'm well aware of the commode flushing on its own and on what day. Any plumbers out here? Can you tell me if there are any commodes that are set to flush by themselves only on certain days of the week and at certain times?
I also heard running down the hallway; that happened too many times to count. The first time both Dobbie (my cat) and I heard it. We were in the kitchen; I was doing dishes and Dobbie was on the floor by my feet. I heard, and felt, running down the hall. Dobbie stopped cleaning himself and looked toward the hallway. The running quit before it reached the kitchen. Another time I thought Jerrica was running for the bathroom. I yelled and asked her what she was doing and she answered she was watching TV (in her room). I then asked her if she had just gone to the bathroom and she told me no, she had been watching TV. If you've lived in a trailer, you'll understand this. There is no sound or feeling like a child running through a trailer. You can feel it shake the trailer, especially an older one.
All three of us heard voices while we lived there. Jerrica and Dalton thought I was calling for them. Many times Dalton would come into the kitchen and ask me what I wanted. When I said "what," he would say "what you say to me, Mommy?" Eventually I started telling him I forgot what I wanted. At the beginning, Jerrica would ask what I wanted, but when I told her I didn't call for her, she just quit asking. She would tell me, sometimes days later, that she still heard her name called. In one of my previous stories, I mentioned that I heard women and children's voices. I continued to hear them while we lived in this trailer. I won't pretend to tell you that they were the same women and children, because I have no way of knowing that. All I do know for sure is that I heard women and children talking. And, yes, I confirmed that they were not living beings.
One morning Dalton got up and tried to turn on the TV before we left for work/school. He couldn't turn it on with the remote, so I told him to push the button on the TV. He told me it was broken. I asked Jerrica to turn the TV on for him so I could finish getting ready. Jerrica told me the TV was broken. So, aggravated at this point and knowing there was nothing wrong with the TV, I went and pushed the button and what do you know? It wouldn't turn on. I then thought about checking the button on the power strip that the TV was plugged into. It was turned off. I pushed it on and then turned on the TV. Neither Jerrica nor Dalton even knew the power strip was there. It was completely of sight behind the TV stand. I thought about blaming Dobbie, but quickly realized he couldn't have done it because the on/off button was recessed. And I really don't think a cat has that kind of strength anyway.
During Christmas break one morning, I got up and kicked the thermostat up a little as was my habit. Nothing happened. I checked. Hmmm... The pilot was lit, but the furnace wouldn't kick on. I could hear the "clicking" sound, but it never came on. Well, crap, we had no heat. So I sent my kids away because I couldn't get a repairman until Sunday. When the repairman came, he discovered that one of the wires was not connected. He asked me if anyone else had been there to look at the furnace. I told him I was the only one who had looked at the furnace. He said it couldn't have happened accidentally; someone had to have deliberately left the wire unhooked or else forgot to hook it back up. He also suggested that if someone had worked on the furnace maybe they didn't get the wire hooked tight enough. I was the only person who had opened the door to the furnace. Honestly, I'm not even sure my kids knew the door was there LOL. And the furnace was working until that morning because we didn't freeze the night before.
Oh, here's one a lot of you are going to try just to debunk. Please, go ahead. Seriously, I'm asking you to do this and let me know...truthfully...what happens. I suffered from Restless Leg Syndrome and had been told to keep a bar of soap under my sheet to help with the cramps. So I put a brand new bar of Ivory soap (plain white Ivory soap) between my sheet and mattress and a couple of days later I found half of it on the floor. It had been broken into two pieces, cracked right down the middle. Not a clean break, but jagged. Even though I couldn't figure out why, I automatically assumed Jerrica had broken the soap, but when I asked her why she broke the soap she didn't have any idea what I was talking about. She didn't even know I had the soap under the sheet. And there was no way Dalton could have done it. So, to test my daughter, I opened a brand new bar of the same soap and tried to break it. I couldn't do it. I was completely and thoroughly baffled. I was telling a friend about the soap and he didn't believe me. He never believes me about anything paranormal LOL and told me he could break the soap. So I brought a brand new bar of soap (same kind) in to work and he broke it. But it was a clean break, right down the center; nothing at all like the other two pieces. I explained to him that the other bar was a jagged break, not a clean break. I actually ended up bringing in a piece of the soap to show him. He had no explanation! The break was across the middle, width-wise, not length, about 6 long jagged "cuts" for want of a better description. One thing I forgot to mention is I found the other half of the bar of soap still in the middle of my bed under my sheet. Oh yeah, there were no other marks on the soap. It was as if the soap had just been opened and somehow was "cut" like this. It did have some sheet imprints, but nothing like teeth or claw marks to indicate Dobbie had gotten hold of the soap.
Well, that's all I have... For now.
Mom to mom, we NEVER stop worrying over our babies - not even after their grown. It's just a mom thing. Add to that he's your youngest so... Totally natural to be protective - as long as you remember you're raising him to be independent and self-sufficient.
I was also thinking of Dalton's crib escape. What convinces me that he had 'help' of some type is that he didn't repeat it. IF he had done it himself, he would have kept doing it until you figured out how he was doing it and put a stop to it.