So when I told Hubby that I was going to post on a blog way
cooler than mine, his first question was, “What are you going to write about?”

He’s never asked me what I’m going to write about on my own
blog. *Pout*

But then I realized he had a point.

I  knew, of course, that I would use the word “fuck” as much
as possible. (I do so love a fuck-friendly zone, hehehe. . .get it?)

I’ve hoped all week that the demons who wear the cute
clothes I buy at The Children’s Place (aka Ironflower and Lovebug, my toddlers)
would do something blog-worthy. And even though I never said anything, they
managed not to cooperate anyway. Much like when I ask them to do those cute
things again for their grandparents and they look at me like I’ve asked them to
perform fucking Shakespearean monologues.

But I finally had a flash of inspiration as I opened the
cabinet under the sink. Under the sink is where we keep all the dangerous
chemicals like dishwasher detergent and glass cleaner (not that I was getting
those, I was getting trash bags because I do not clean on Friday night. Or
Saturday. Or. ..well, I’m getting off topic). The rubber band that holds the
cabinet doors shut broke and I had to search for a new one. Finally I took the
one off of Lovebug’s favorite cabinet, the one with fancy, breakable dishes
that we never use.

Right now, many of you are thinking, “She keeps her kids out
of the cabinets with rubberbands?”

Yeah, I do. When Ironflower was first crawling, we tried the
whole childproofing thing. Breakables went up high. The cabinets got weird
plastic things. Wall sockets were covered. Sticky foam things went around the
coffee table corners. The toilet got a lock.

The fucking toilet lock was the first to go. It never worked
right and had a tendency to fall in. So instead we started shutting the
bathroom door, despite the warnings from our childbirth teacher about kids opening bathroom doors and
drowning in toilets. Even now that they can open doors, we keep them shut
because “out of sight, out of mind” is a great description of how the toddler brain
works.

We got rid of the cabinet thingies because I kept breaking
nails (not that I’m manicured anymore, but I HATE it when they break off down
to the quick) and because Hubby would remove them to get something out and just
leave them on the counter. The rubber bands are cheaper and a lot easier to
use.

The foam corner things would not stay on. But we kept
diligently reapplying them until Ironflower fell and smacked her head on the
side of the coffee table, after which we realized that we could not cover all
the hard things in the world with foam.

After moving twice, most breakables are gone anyway, so we
don’t have that worry anymore.  And we
still use the wall socket covers. Because they’re so NOT a pain-in-the-ass.

So I’m a child-proofing slacker, which didn’t bother me
until I realized that someday I might have to host a playdate. Still being a
bit new to the area, we haven’t yet. But it will happen. And I just know it
will be with some mom who actually hired a child-proofing service or something.

Welcome to the world of Dirty Little Secret. And many thank
yous to Karly, for allowing me to guest post.