Or, Baby Shower Weekend.
We’re holding our baby shower this weekend and in order to keep costs down we decided to throw the party in our apartment. Of course, we’re really looking at this shindig as more of a housewarming party because it will mark the first time we’ve had a party in our place since the renovations were completed, but the bonus is that we also get gifts for the baby. Unfortunately, this means that we need to unpack and clean our apartment, two things that we haven’t been able to do for the last eight months. And let me just say right now that if you’ve never lived through construction in your own home then you don’t have any idea how fricking awesome it feels to wake up in the morning NOT covered in white construction dust.
I actually cried when I woke that first morning.
Another downside of throwing the party in our home is that, since some of the guests will be bringing their small children with them, we’ll need to “baby-proof” our apartment which is something that we just don’t comprehend how to do. For one thing, we have stairs without a baby gate, and no plans to install one even after our child is born. Although the lovely HoBiscuit is iffy on my reasoning, I don’t believe that one is necessary if we just take care as parents to teach our child that the stairs are dangerous and she should be careful or she’ll get hurt. I grew up without stair gates, so I figure our kids can, too.
But, I ask you, why stop there?
You see, I also plan on burning her fingers with a hot pan to teach her not to play with hot things. Letting her stick her wet finger in a wall socket so she learns about the pitfalls of electricity. I’ll slam her fingers in a car door so she’ll always remember to keep her hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times, and I’ll even let her eat rat poison so she can thank me later on in life for teaching her not to eat things unless she knows what they are. This way she’ll learn all of life’s little safety lessons as a child living at home where I can protect her and then I’ll write a book about how everyone should do these things to raise perfect and happy kids and the world will praise me because of my superior parenting skills.
What? Why are you looking at me like I’m a monster?
Anywaste, babyproofing the apartment is tough for us because we don’t even understand what might be dangerous for a kid. Having never been in contact with children under the age of 7, I’m completely clueless about what they might find “fun” to play with, but I’m pretty sure I’ll need to hide the neon orange box cutters we have laying on the kitchen table. And I’ll probably need to put away all the day-glo colored bottles of household cleaners that I have in a box in the living room with, “Yummy Kandy” written on it. Two things I do know for sure is that someone will need to guard the stairs and we’ll need to put little socket-blocks in all the wall sockets to stop curious fingers. Hey, come on now, you didn’t really think I’d let kids hurt themselves, did you?
Really? Wow. That hurts… wow. Just… wow.
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