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| Don't be fooled - she's cute, but she's a handful. |
We've been baby-proofing in stages. There was the "take the newspapers out from under the coffee table" stage. Then the easy-to-tackle "get the cords out of her reach" period. We sailed through the "keep the cats' food and water bowls out of her reach" era and quickly followed with "move all of the breakables up high." Then "move all of the breakables up higher/in to storage."
Side note: This baby-proofing thing is an interior decorator's nightmare. We have virtually no decorative stuff left on our coffee table, entertainment stand or end tables. It's kind of nice, but still quite startling - I bought a bin that holds all of our magazines (which previously resided on our coffee table) and another that holds our keys/spare change/TV remotes, so Little Miss Grabby Hands can't get to some of her favorite treasures anymore. Drives. Her. Bananas.
Really, we started baby-proofing on a large scale with the removal of a significant amount of furniture. My thinking was that if there was less furniture, there would be fewer opportunities for Elle to pull stuff off/down/on top of herself, and more space for her to roam without potential booby-traps. We packed up two big bookcases of books and took them and the bookcases to storage. Another bookcase was tossed to the trash, the contents (like my Web design books, current crafting projects, bills, correspondence, etc.) secured in a newly acquired four-drawer filing cabinet. With little handles that I pray she won't be able open until she's like five.
So that's three bookcases down. Lots of baby-proofing done (next on the list is securing a few more pieces of furniture to the walls, putting the little cabinet locks on Elle's favorite travel-sized toiletries in the bathroom and getting a gate for the kitchen), yet an infinite amount to go. I'm not going to be a helicopter parent, and we're blessed and cursed with the fact that Elle's childcare takes place in our home - she's closely watched at most times, but I can't expect every adult who enters to assume total responsibility for my curious and clumsy child's welfare. We'll keep watching for potential issues as they arise.
Like the most recent realization: Our "eliminate the issues as they crop up" approach to baby-proofing - the approach that has claimed various knick-knacks, dozens of photo frames and several substantial pieces of furniture - does not extend to walls or floors. I cannot make them disappear. And Elle, in her young, quadruped way, is challenging these formidable foes. (Read: We've had screams and tears two days in a row when there was a tumble, a moment of silence and then a shocked baby with cries and tears that would make you shake - all with a parent that was less than two feet away at all times.) Today she tried to crawl in to the fridge, too - an arctic disaster waiting to happen - but managed to escape, unscathed, with some string cheese. She promptly crawled across the room and brought it to me to unwrap for her immediate consumption.
If only all of our potential accidents were just quests for snacks ... I might be able to monitor the situation more closely. With this kid's whims, lack of grace and darting ways, we're in for a lot of trouble.
