The Case for Baby Proofing
It is time to start baby proofing.
Oliver is a crawling maniac. He's still getting used to this new mode of transportation and I'm sure he'll only get speedier, but he is LOVING his freedom of exploration. I can tell you this new feat has caused some frantic "oh my gosh" moments for Doug and I. I've told you about those, right? You're in an otherwise completely safe situation and your mind starts roaming. You search the area for any kind of disaster that could befall your teeny tiny one and the possibility of it happening just kind of takes your breath away. You then realize that the probability of the event occuring is about a million to one and have to convince yourself that you are not that 1.0 × 10-6 because you're a good parent.
(Yeah, I just mathed the hell out of that paragraph. What, what.)
Here's an OMG example. I'm changing Oliver and I take a quick danger audit of everything around us. The hallogen lamp could fall and break over his head, sending hazardous hallogen particles spewing through his nursery; he could twist and fall off the changing table; he could swallow the purell / desitin / a&d; a bug could fall into his mouth; a robber could spiderman his way in the window and kidnap him...or worse. (Oh my gosh.)
I realize this is super-paranoia, but it just happens. I can't make it go away! My sister says it's here to stay and that's what "mother" means. Worry. Awesome.
So, how does one baby-proof? I'm not sure. I haven't looked it up yet, but I think it's safe to assume the following.
Of baby proofing. Not my cut-up child. (OMG.)
While he IS crawling, he's not sitting up just yet. But we can tell he's so close! We can put him down in a sitting position and he'll still fall over - the only difference now is that he stops himself with his hand! What a big boy!
Another reason we're going to start baby proofing is because I did the unthinkable last week. I needed to put O down in a place where I could keep my eye on him so I put him on the bed. Yes, that sharp intake of breath you took is for the right reason. I turned around for one second and Oliver fell. Off the bed. 3 feet down. It was AWFUL. Doug had already left for the day and I was rushing around trying to get ready because we had woken up late. It was already 8am and I put him down in order to turn around and put a necklace on. I turned back to Oliver only to watch him fall slowly to the floor, rotating about 12 times from the side of the bed to the floor. My son dropped like a bag of flour in a bad slow motion movie. Luckily, if there is such a thing, he fell onto the carpet, but our floors are made of rock anyway, so it couldn't have cushioned him enough. I was horrified. I rushed over just in time to see his face contort into a "WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?" grimace and then let out a howl that would make a velociraptor cry. I snatched him up, slapped my ass down on the bed and kissed him all over. I have made Oliver cry before with minor bumps and the one time that I accidentally got Purell in his eyes, but it was NOTHING like this. Nothing prepares you for the shame you feel when your child cries because of your complete negligence and lack of control. I did what any other 31 year old would do and called my mom.
Me: "Mom? Did I wake you up?"
Mom: "No, I was up. What's wrong?"
Me: "OLIVER JUST FELL OFF THE BED! He just fell! I turned around for a SECOND!"
Mom: "Well, that's all it takes. Don't worry. Babies bounce. When you take him to daycare, ask them to watch him today - if his eyes seem weird, if he shakes when he crawls, you know, that kind of thing."
Me: "I just feel so bad!"
Mom: "Of course you do. But don't worry, it happens to everyone. All of you kids called me when your baby fell off the bed for the first time. I dropped your Aunt Leslie on her head when she was 2 weeks old. Babies bounce."
I took Mom's advice and brought him to daycare - stopping every half a block to make sure he wasn't sleeping. He wasn't crying any longer and was even regarding me with a happy - albeit suspicious - attitude. I got to Tutor Time and met a mother who seemed to be having a bad day. Her toddler was throwing his banana on the floor and refusing to enter the elevator. She looked at me and huffed, "It's one of those days!" I said, "Tell me about it My son just fell off the bed!" She glanced up from fending off her kid's bite marks and goes, "Ah...the rite of passage for a mommy. Consider this a hug!" I spoke with Cherie about it ("His last diaper change was 7:30, his last feeding was 7, and he fell off the bed at 8") and she promised (twelve times, I was a little anxious) to call me if there was any problem.
You'll be happy to know that daycare didn't call me and Oliver had a wonderful day. He came home and was a perfect angel. Of course, then Saturday he came down with a 102.5 temperature and I had to tell the doctor what I had done. Eeks.
As you can see - and I just realized - the OMG moments are completely useless wastes of time. When the real danger - a 7 month old falling into space and hitting his head on concrete - doesn't cross your mind but the possibility of a baby-crazed lunatic abducting your child in the middle of the night from a window two stories up and tens of feet away from any kind of foothold does, you've got a problem.
Then again, now that he has plummeted onto his head, I have eliminated that danger from that room. Simply put, he's never going to be on the bed without supervision ever again.
At least until the next time.
And those improbable OMG moments may serve to ready me in case the impossible does happen.
Maybe THAT's what makes a mom a good mom. Being ready for anything...and being prepared for nothing.
Better get started on that baby proofing!
Oliver is a crawling maniac. He's still getting used to this new mode of transportation and I'm sure he'll only get speedier, but he is LOVING his freedom of exploration. I can tell you this new feat has caused some frantic "oh my gosh" moments for Doug and I. I've told you about those, right? You're in an otherwise completely safe situation and your mind starts roaming. You search the area for any kind of disaster that could befall your teeny tiny one and the possibility of it happening just kind of takes your breath away. You then realize that the probability of the event occuring is about a million to one and have to convince yourself that you are not that 1.0 × 10-6 because you're a good parent.
(Yeah, I just mathed the hell out of that paragraph. What, what.)
Here's an OMG example. I'm changing Oliver and I take a quick danger audit of everything around us. The hallogen lamp could fall and break over his head, sending hazardous hallogen particles spewing through his nursery; he could twist and fall off the changing table; he could swallow the purell / desitin / a&d; a bug could fall into his mouth; a robber could spiderman his way in the window and kidnap him...or worse. (Oh my gosh.)
I realize this is super-paranoia, but it just happens. I can't make it go away! My sister says it's here to stay and that's what "mother" means. Worry. Awesome.
So, how does one baby-proof? I'm not sure. I haven't looked it up yet, but I think it's safe to assume the following.
- Keep all the heavy items on the bottom shelves so they a) keep the shelves sturdy and b) reduce the risk of toppling over on his beautiful noggin. This means he also has to really work to take them out of the shelves.
- Just put away fragile items. Replace with Elmo items. That's all I'm going to be needing in the future anyway, or so they tell me. Should probably leave 2 wineglasses in with the cups.
- Pad every scary furniture corner (or just every single corner) with bubble wrap. This aids in keeping his body safe from scratches, bumps and bruises, and also conveniently alerts you when he's on the run. <POP>
- Close the door to the bathroom. That room is brimming with diasters. Gurph. Swallowing cleaning solutions, eating soap, covering himself with Smurf band-aids, I mean I just don't know what he could do. Yeah, he may not be standing up now but rest assured that when he does try it, he'll be in the bathroom, I won't have put the top lid down and he'll fall face-first into the swirling toilet bowl. (Oh my gosh.)
- Bottom cabinets can be kept closed with a tight rubber band. That's what my parents did when the kids were in town. I may or may not have snapped my hand in the cabinet under the sink, but I think that's a "he'll learn if he does it once or twice" kind of situation, right?
- Use lots of gates. Rein him in. And pillows - soften the blow of his seclusion.
Of baby proofing. Not my cut-up child. (OMG.)
While he IS crawling, he's not sitting up just yet. But we can tell he's so close! We can put him down in a sitting position and he'll still fall over - the only difference now is that he stops himself with his hand! What a big boy!
Another reason we're going to start baby proofing is because I did the unthinkable last week. I needed to put O down in a place where I could keep my eye on him so I put him on the bed. Yes, that sharp intake of breath you took is for the right reason. I turned around for one second and Oliver fell. Off the bed. 3 feet down. It was AWFUL. Doug had already left for the day and I was rushing around trying to get ready because we had woken up late. It was already 8am and I put him down in order to turn around and put a necklace on. I turned back to Oliver only to watch him fall slowly to the floor, rotating about 12 times from the side of the bed to the floor. My son dropped like a bag of flour in a bad slow motion movie. Luckily, if there is such a thing, he fell onto the carpet, but our floors are made of rock anyway, so it couldn't have cushioned him enough. I was horrified. I rushed over just in time to see his face contort into a "WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING HERE?" grimace and then let out a howl that would make a velociraptor cry. I snatched him up, slapped my ass down on the bed and kissed him all over. I have made Oliver cry before with minor bumps and the one time that I accidentally got Purell in his eyes, but it was NOTHING like this. Nothing prepares you for the shame you feel when your child cries because of your complete negligence and lack of control. I did what any other 31 year old would do and called my mom.
Me: "Mom? Did I wake you up?"
Mom: "No, I was up. What's wrong?"
Me: "OLIVER JUST FELL OFF THE BED! He just fell! I turned around for a SECOND!"
Mom: "Well, that's all it takes. Don't worry. Babies bounce. When you take him to daycare, ask them to watch him today - if his eyes seem weird, if he shakes when he crawls, you know, that kind of thing."
Me: "I just feel so bad!"
Mom: "Of course you do. But don't worry, it happens to everyone. All of you kids called me when your baby fell off the bed for the first time. I dropped your Aunt Leslie on her head when she was 2 weeks old. Babies bounce."
I took Mom's advice and brought him to daycare - stopping every half a block to make sure he wasn't sleeping. He wasn't crying any longer and was even regarding me with a happy - albeit suspicious - attitude. I got to Tutor Time and met a mother who seemed to be having a bad day. Her toddler was throwing his banana on the floor and refusing to enter the elevator. She looked at me and huffed, "It's one of those days!" I said, "Tell me about it My son just fell off the bed!" She glanced up from fending off her kid's bite marks and goes, "Ah...the rite of passage for a mommy. Consider this a hug!" I spoke with Cherie about it ("His last diaper change was 7:30, his last feeding was 7, and he fell off the bed at 8") and she promised (twelve times, I was a little anxious) to call me if there was any problem.
You'll be happy to know that daycare didn't call me and Oliver had a wonderful day. He came home and was a perfect angel. Of course, then Saturday he came down with a 102.5 temperature and I had to tell the doctor what I had done. Eeks.
As you can see - and I just realized - the OMG moments are completely useless wastes of time. When the real danger - a 7 month old falling into space and hitting his head on concrete - doesn't cross your mind but the possibility of a baby-crazed lunatic abducting your child in the middle of the night from a window two stories up and tens of feet away from any kind of foothold does, you've got a problem.
Then again, now that he has plummeted onto his head, I have eliminated that danger from that room. Simply put, he's never going to be on the bed without supervision ever again.
At least until the next time.
And those improbable OMG moments may serve to ready me in case the impossible does happen.
Maybe THAT's what makes a mom a good mom. Being ready for anything...and being prepared for nothing.
Better get started on that baby proofing!
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