A few days ago a good friend asked me for tips on how to baby proof a house. I told her, you have to prioritize. Stop what you’re doing right now and put your Cheetos out of reach.
After that it all sort of falls into place.
For us, baby proofing has happened naturally. They sort of show you what you need to change and put away as they become more mobile and curious. And all kids are different. Not one of my kids have ever touched an outlet, but your kid might be fascinated by them.
I also believe that the phrase “childproof” is nonsensical, because no home is child-proofed if it has anything at all in it. You think you’re prepared and then you find yourself saying, “DO NOT SIT IN YOUR APPLE SAUCE!” There’s no baby gate for that scenario.
Child-proofing for a third child is a different because you have two other children; two other children who move about the house freely and become very very frustrated with gates and locks. Two other children who want (and need!) to access art supplies, Legos, and Hot Wheels.
Then there’s David, who loves to collect. He gathers things like acorns and rocks and — don’t tell David I said this — trash. David loves bottle tops, gum wrappers, and broken glass if I’d let him. He keeps his
trash treasures in a box under his bed, and he calls it his collection.
David’s collection is shoved under his bed as far as it can go to keep it from curious baby hands.
This wasn’t an issue until recently, when I kept finding the collection in the middle of the room. Or worse, I’d find Thomas sitting by David’s bed with his collection, rifling through pebbles and pinecones and buttons.
David, you have to keep your collection under your bed…You have to slide it all the way under…You have to you have to you have to….
He’d insist he didn’t leave it out, and I’d roll my eyes because I used to fib to my mother, too, and I never fooled her for a minute, either.
Then one morning I was in David’s room and Thomas crawled straight to David’s bed, flattened himself, reached under the bed, and pulled out the collection.
Right in front of me. Like he owned the place. Like he’d done it before.
What I’m saying is, make sure you put your Cheetos up high. Don’t just slide them under your bed like an amateur.