Stony broke and baby proofing

Thursday 06 October 2016

It’s little ones nap time and so begins the (pointless) daily task of tidying his toys. I’m not sure why I bother given that as soon as he wakes they will be thrown to the far reaches of the living room once again until the time comes for him to choose sleep again and I crawl around recovering it for the 67548762th time that day. And so the cycle continues…

However, I have found some entertainment recently in tidying his things away. It cheers me up. Not just because of the calming effect of being able to walk from A to B without worrying about what I’m standing on but because – since he has become mobile – I find all sorts squirrelled away in his toy stash and it makes me giggle wondering what on earth is going through his mind as he cruises round the living room collecting these gems.

For example – tissues. Why are babies fascinated by tissues? Not just the emptying of the box it would seem. No, that’s not inconvenient enough for mummy to clear up. Instead E likes to empty the box and then make confetti with the contents. It’s some kind of beautiful. I suppose. He’ll be a star at helping me do fake snow at Christmas…

Anything that is left within reaching or stretching distance is now fair game for his toy collection. I’ve collected candles, spoons, coasters, place mats, soggy/chewed bank statements that I thought I’d managed to hide from myself, photo frames, the TV remote, my mobile, odd socks (mine and his?!), some of the contents of daddy’s gym bag and I’m sure there’ll be much more that I have yet to stumble across. It fascinates me that he can choose the most mundane thing in the room and think it is worth playing with (bodes well for us doing Christmas gifts on a budget!) It fascinates me more that he is never left by himself for longer than it takes me to pour a drink yet still manages to collect all these little trinkets unnoticed. Which brings me onto baby proofing…

I should preface this with the fact that we are stony broke and thus the requirement to buy anything to baby proof has been delayed as long as humanly possible. What with cars failing to start, washing machines dying a death, maternity pay coming to an end and the general expense of daily life, the bank seems to disagree with me when I insist that we are billionaires.

It’s not just the money though. Next week Ethan is 8 months old. I remember (like it was yesterday) him being 8 days old. So I’m clinging (desperately) to his baby status by refusing to acknowledge that we need to baby proof. Or I have been. Until now.

E has got a lot braver recently. Whether it’s going from the old one handed to no handed lean, or just throwing both arms in the air and hoping for the best he’s plucking up the courage (and strength) to try and stand without needing to lean against things. A nice, cushioned nappy bum is ideal for this. Or it was. Until he started throwing in the odd, acrobatic, mid-air swivel and face planting the floor. Luckily his foam mat has more than proved its worth. Unluckily – mostly for our bank balance and our ‘free’ time – I no longer trust that he can be left alone for the duration of my brew making without turning the living room into a padded cell. So bank balance significantly lighter and half our weekend now accounted for I have reluctantly ordered the necessary supplies to make all of our furniture baby safe and (apparently) ugly as hell.

If  installing baby proofing is anything like assembling flat pack furniture I expect the hubby and I are in for a whale of a time! Wish us luck…