Roasted Leg

OK, so I was a smart ass.

I figured that we didn't need to really child proof the home. The way I see it is that we should just tell Owen "No" and he should learn when we say "no", we mean it. So I don't need all the fancy clips, locks, handles, bumpers, plugs, and other adult annoyances. Those things are ugly and make my life more complicated, wrestling with a clip so I can get at the garbage pail. Yes, we even have our cleaning supplies at floor level, unguarded by the required giant lion that snaps at the hand of a baby as they try to drink the bottle of bleach.

See smart ass.

Yeah, that was till I got stabbed in the leg by a meat thermometer.

We have a few drawers that we let Owen run wild with. Pots and pans, string, towels, Tupperware. All things I am relatively sure are baby proof. Spatulas, spoons, whisks, barbecue meat fork thermometers with large spokes perfect for jabbing into mom's leg...wait a second. That last one REALLY hurts. I screamed pretty loud that Owen was startled and cried too. I had to console him will my leg was being skewered. I guess you shouldn't turn your back on a baby with a utensil. I didn't even remember we owned the meat thermometer fork- have we ever even used it??? Well I guess we have now.

So no I still haven't put up all the drawer handcuffs, corner buffers and door lockers. But that meat thermometer sure got packed away. As did the meat skewers, bamboo sticks, scissors, butcher knives, barbwire and landmines. I intend to make it through child rearing with all of my limbs and digits. And maybe so will Owen, if were lucky.

Baby 1 Mom 0