As buried as I am in my edumacation, I thrive on routine because I know when I can expect to just barely pull off a project minutes before its deadline without being interrupted by disagreements over whose Mickey Mouse sticker is whose. While my über-regimented schedule lacks the spontaneity I prefer, knowing exactly when I can sit and focus free of tiny face-fives keeps me productive and sane–both highly desirable qualities in a person entrusted with the lives of multiple one-year-olds.
Since I live on a planet where academic research design and Disney Sing-Along-Songs are king, I’d entirely forgotten that Easter was, in fact, this weekend, and I’m a little ashamed to confess that my gut reaction to this realization was annoyance.
This is Part 2 of the greatest child-safety-lock-infused saga of our time, Adventures in Baby-Proofing. See how the quest for full storage compartment lockdown began here.
The baby-proofing latches we bought for the majority of our drawers and cabinets would not properly fit our TV stand drawers, so this week, my wife and I opted for an alternative, the Safety 1st Adjustable Multi-Purpose Strap.
Fantastic! We thought. It has “Safety 1st” IN ITS NAME! Surely this product would provide iron-clad protection for years to come.
As you can probably gather from the picture modeled by the lovely microwave (she’s single, fellas!), the device attaches to both the drawer/door and the base of the furniture via double-sided tape. This tape was already adhered to the product, and we were to simply peel off the paper covering the other sticky sides, press them to the necessary surfaces for five minutes or so, and rest easy knowing our katana blade drawer was safely locked away, out of twin-shot.
I wanted to finish baby-proofing our house earlier. I really did. But it’s the thought that counts.
I had the best intentions when I began work in October, and have slowly made what I believe to be significant progress given the circumstances, as the project has been narrowly constrained by multiple, immovable factors:
1) My Fans
I am apparently so incredibly awesome and compelling that my pint-sized fans cannot bear the thought of me leaving the room. Not to go to the bathroom, wash dishes, get diapers, or anything else that takes longer than five seconds. The Experts call this “separation anxiety.” I call it “the reason I can’t get anything done around the house unless I want an improvisational high-pitched duet as a soundtrack.” Due to sharp drills and screwdrivers and the same hazardous cabinet contents I’m trying to bar from their tiny, inquisitive hands, I can’t have them climbing all over me while I install latchery. Keeping them in the room with me as I work necessitates restrictive holding cells such as Pack ‘n’ Plays and Exersaucers, but they are proficiently crawling their way to walking any day now, and thus assertively refuse any restraints in efforts normally attributed to Wild Horses and Freebirds and Eyes of Tigers. These factors all imply that the ideal baby-proofing window is during a Nap Overlap or Ni-Night Time. Aside from the fact that a Nap Overlap itself is rare, the slightest of sounds from a pin dropping to a grizzly bear/man hybrid slamming a car door can wake them, so firing up the drill while they’re asleep is simply ill-advised.
2) My Schedule
Two of my weekdays are spent on campus studying in preparation for world domination. I have not yet taken my program’s Building and Remotely Controlling Your Own Robot Henchman 101 class, so baby-proofing production grinds to an unfortunate halt on these days. The remaining three weekdays are dedicated to house-husbanding and twin-wrangling, which, as I just mentioned, are not conducive to accomplishing anything but avoiding tantrums and occasionally escaping for a guerrilla laundry load. This leaves the weekends, the only time we are together as a family, during which we spend quality time driving around town running errands, and every once in a while, pretending we have a social life. This aspect has recently been amplified by…