Why is it that with each new baby I have to relearn all of the baby proofing tips and tricks? Not only that, but I have to reteach everyone in the house. Only Chloe is excused from not remembering because this is her first stint as a big sis. The rest of us must have experienced some sort of head trauma or something since we (mostly me) thought the house was sufficiently baby proofed when we moved in.
It goes something like this: You have a baby, and you go along not really changing anything in the house, until one day that baby starts to get around. Even then, it's not too bad...she just gets into the CDs on the bottom shelf and finds random stuff on the ground. So just a few lectures to the older kids about not leaving Barbie shoes and pennies on the floor, and we're good.
But then the army crawling little baby graduates to a full fledged crawler. It's still not horrible. Now she can more quickly get into the bottom shelf items, but mostly she tries to stay around you as much as she can (this particular baby has a healthy case of separation anxiety). You're still constantly reminding the older kids to watch it with all the Barbie accessories, but for the most part nothing is too alarming.
And then one day the baby figures out how to pull herself up. Now you're really in trouble. Because now she is knocking down picture frames off the end table, eating candle wax from the pillar on the same table, pulling out everything on the second and sometimes third shelves, ripping pages out of any books she comes across (including tearing out almost all of 2nd Nephi from your scriptures), finding pens and pencils left lying around by her artistic older sister and unwittingly drawing on herself and on the wall with them, thoroughly emptying the diaper bag, dumping out buckets of toys (even the tiny variety that you have so carefully trained your older kids not to leave on the floor), climbing into the fridge as soon as she notices it is opened, getting a huge kick out of pushing all the shampoo and bath toys into the tub, retrieving disgusting bits of trash out of the bathroom wastebasket, crawling under the desk and unplugging the computer, and emptying the shoe basket by the front door every chance she gets.
So you baby proof the house. Every day. And just when you think there is no possible way she can create any more disaster you hear her laughing in the bathroom. You go in there, exasperated at the older girls for leaving the door open yet again, and find your baby happily swishing her daddy's toothbrush in the toilet water.
Do you think I should tell Joel?