Friday, June 29, 2007
The Post Where I Admit I'm A Terrible Parent
I was talking with a coworker yesterday who has an adorable new baby. Okay, she's over six months old, but she's still adorable, and according to my coworker, already getting her move on. What? You don't know what a “move on“ is? It's just that strange quasi-crawl bumping, bouncing thing babies learn before they truly get mobile. With her baby already mastering her move on, my coworker is suddenly concerned that she needs to start baby proofing her home... RIGHT AWAY... or else tragedy will strike and her baby may get a boo-boo or something. That's when I realized something... I still haven't baby proofed our place.
Oh, sure, I put some of those outlet covers in a few of the holes in our walls, but I never went full out and wrapped our furniture in nerf, locked all the cabinets with keypad access/rental scanning super-computers, or put up little reenactments of the Great Wall of China in baby form, effectively sealing off parts of the house from our little mongolian barbarian.
See, I guess I just couldn't be bothered with that. I know, I know, I'm a monster, but I found that screaming “No!“ and sprinting across the room in a panic, arms waving madly, legs churning like I'm a cartoon character, suits my parenting style much better. Chunk is trying to stick a pen into an electrical outlet? Scream, run, and dive. Chunk is seeing what the speaker cables taste like? Again, do that slow motion “Noooooooooo!“ while you trip over the couch and knock over the lamp on your way. Chunk testing furniture densities with his forehead? Bah... just let him do that. He'll learn.
When I was a child, baby proofing mostly consisted of picking up the ashtrays and only letting the kids have a couple of sips of beer, and I turned out fine. Oh... wait... okay, now I see everyone's point about safety. Maybe I am a monster.
What about you? Did you go crazy with the baby proofing? Or, did your living room resemble an episode of the Fall Guy on most occasions?