I’m Not Sold On This Baby Proofing Business
Every parent’s job, pretty much, is to not kill his or her baby. I have already been to the emergency room after Holt flew off the couch into the coffee table, splitting his chin open. The coffee table is no longer in the living room. But now, he’s starting to climb stairs and I thought, ‘Okay, I need a baby proofer.”
I was quite surprised when I asked for a reliable baby proofer on Facebook. My nine month old is already crawling and getting into everything. One moment, he’ll be on one side of the room, and a split second later he’s pretty much chewing on my computer wires on the opposite end. Half the responses on my Facebook gave me suggestions of reliable companies. The other commenter’s actually didn’t believe in baby proofing and basically said, in not these exact words, “He’ll learn once he falls down the stairs to not do that again.”
I wasn’t going to baby proof at all when my daughter was born. She was a good girl, who barely left my side and never went into anything. But even if I had pillows covering every shelf in my house, my son will just move those pillows and get into everything. I mean, he’s a baby! How does he know that behind pillows, I’m hiding things?
I ended up getting my daughter a baby proofer after one of my girlfriends said, “No, you need to hire this baby proofer. He’s the fucking hottest guy you will ever meet.” So what’s a first time mother to do when she hears about the “fucking hottest” baby proofer? Well, of course I hired him…immediately. How could I NOT meet a hot baby proofer?
He showed up at my house, looking like a model, and took me through my house pointing out all the dangers, while I thought, “How does a guy this hot become a baby proofer?” At one point, he pointed out a knob of a window. “She could turn that,” he said. I was like, “I guess she could,” and, “I didn’t even know there was a fucking window there!”
Baby proofers are fear mongers. They really are. They point out every single thing that could possibly go wrong. In any case, I did hire him to put up some very expensive, but beautiful baby gates (as beautiful as baby gates can be) that were so good that almost every day I would scream to my then fiancé, “I’m fucking stuck! I can’t open this goddamn gate. Can you rescue me?” We also got those metallic things for cupboards, which was also a pain in the ass. If I wanted to get, let’s say, a cloth, I would spend either twenty minutes trying to find the magnet to unlock the cupboard, or I would just rip it open because I was so frustrated.
But my son is different. He IS trouble. He gets into everything. So I called Kiddie Proofers and a man came over. (Not hot. Sigh.) He basically told me I’m going to have to rearrange my entire house, meaning that everything down low is going to have to be put up high, my bookshelves are going to needed to be strapped to the wall in case baby pulls himself up, and that my garbage needs to be emptied every day.