danger zone...

With Alexis doing her fair share of walking now (though crawling still seems to be the quicker and more dependable mode of transportation), I look at things around our house much differently. Sharp corners are suddenly screaming at me, begging me to cover them up. Door knobs, while out of reach, strongly remind me regularly of their contents, some of which could undoubtedly be dangerous. I'll admit that we're slacking a tad in the childproofing department, and writing this out has made me realize that I need to get my ass in gear and venture down the ridiculous baby-proofing aisle at Babies R Us.

One room in the house, while the smallest room we have, seems to be the one with the most potential hazards - the bathroom. First off, every single thing in that room is hard as a rock. Tub, tiles, toilet, vanity...all solid. And some of those hards are also sharp - vanity cabinet door corners, bath spigot. Plenty of slippage is possible - wet tub or wet tiles aren't exactly conducive of sturdy footing. And then of course there's a plethora of germs and bacteria. I cringe when I realize that Alexis is bee-lining for the toilet. Don't touch! Don't you know that a man lives here and can't seem to keep his pee in the toilet??

My little one loves to hang out in the tub. She also enjoys toying with us, staring us in the eyes with a steadfast gaze as she shows indication of wanting to stand up. "Alexis...stay sitting," we warn. I'm constantly lifting her up and plopping her back down on her butt. On hands and knees, she'll suddenly decide that attempting to crawl up the side of the tub would be just as fun. That also warrants a warning. Jamie and I, of course, are watching her closely, ready to make our move in the event of a catastrophe.

When bathtime is over, I let the water run out but leave her in the tub. She hangs out as the water slowly runs out, and eventually she's sitting, wet and nekkid, on her bathmat. How she can continue to enjoy herself when I know she must be chilly is beyond me. The other night, Jamie and I are chatting while watching the child in the empty tub, warning her occasionally to take a seat. For a split second, Jamie and I look at each other, and apparently she saw that and sprang to her feet. No good. It was followed by a faceplant with an audible cheek bump against the side of the tub.

Luckily, she walked away with only a hefty bruise under her eye. I figure her pudgy face must have cushioned the fall. There really wasn't much I could do that night - keeping an icepack on a toddler's cheek isn't exactly easy. It could have been worse, but in the end, she's just fine.

The house is dangerous. Children are dangerous. The dogs are dangerous. Let's throw us in there as being dangerous too. Living is dangerous, for goodness sake. All we can do is keep her in our sight and be prepared to lunge or jump when necessary. S**t happens.