Baby Proof

We have finally stepped up the babyproofing around our house to make it a little less stressful with our toddling one-year-old. The lovely white clips now adorn our under-sink cabinets, and we've been diligent about keeping potty lids down. Sadly, the little guy has recently learned to lift the lids.  What is it about toilet water that's as intriguing as the ocean? Splash, splash.  And what is it about a plunger that's so tantalizing?  The bigs kids and I are contemplating giving the baby a fresh new plunger for Christmas.

When I go to friends' houses, however, I have to follow the baby around. Most of my friends do not have one-year-olds, and have long since abandoned babyproofing.  Whereas my kids will yell-- "Mom! He has something little in his mouth! He could choke!"--my friends' kids think nothing of leaving legos or a coin collection at close range. 

Yesterday was a stellar example. We had barely arrived at my friend's house, and the baby was intrigued with a tennis ball in the living room.  Between her four kids, my three, and four different neighborhood kids that arrived while I was there, we had a lot of children to keep track of.  Still, within minutes of arriving, we heard a shrill beeping noise piercing our ears.

"Where's George?" I said. My eyes were peeled and I raced back into the living room. No baby.

"It's a smoke alarm!" one child claimed.

"Where's George?"

We all started racing around the hallway, living room, dining room, family room, kitchen--all the while trying not to go crazy from the shrill beeeeeeep--until my friend says, "Found him.  Here he is."  We looked over, and crouched in the corner of the dining room, his eyes wide, was the baby with his finger firmly pressing the test button on the carbon monoxide detector. He was the culprit. And looked pretty stunned about it.

Fast forward about thirty minutes as the troops started getting hungry.  He must have followed the big kids as they got some oatmeal squares out of the pantry.  We knew they were sharing a little snack, and the baby was toddling back and forth between us and them.  Within a minute, we walked by and nearly tripped on that little guy, sitting on the dining room floor in the middle of a huge pile of Fritos.  He had helped himself to the pantry and grabbed whatever he could from the bottom shelf.  Those resourceful third children.

They keep us on our toes; don't they?