The boo-boo

I thought I'd start off this blog on a negative note. That way, you won't all get this impression of me as "egotistical", as some of my anti-internet-grammar/spelling rages might relate. I really wanted to start off with a five page spread on apostrophes, but knew that this would simply make everyoen, oops, everyone simply go through my blogs and search for typos and missing colons. So, instead, we'll talk about my first major parenting mistake.

My daughter performed a Lemming dive off of the couch, I wasn't there to catch her, and a boo-boo in the form of a full-arm cast is now being worn by Miss. Sky-diver herself. I wasn't in the room when this happened (my husband was, but I choose not to go there), but my guilt has now filled up both rooms and now our bathroom supply closet. How could I let this happen?

I typed this out five months ago. Man, if I knew then what I know now!

I am always in the room with my daughter, well, unless I'm down the hall doing laundry or mopping the floors. O.K. I'm not always in the room with her. But when I AM in the room with her, I keep a good eye on her, and will always get really close to her if she is near something dangerous, or climbing on something, or trying to walk (she's not walking yet). That is, unless I'm in the room with her and concentrating on something else like dinner, budgeting, cleaning, organizing, e-mail, etc. O.K., I'm not always watching her carefully.

When at the park, I watch her like a hawk and make sure that she stays pristine at all times. Another lie. I let her crawl everywhere, and if she happens to put a twig in her mouth, I'm not exactly at the speed-of-light when I go over to take it out. I do take it out, though. Eventually.
I'm known for letting my daughter go pantsless when crawling on our hard tile floor, and roll my eyes whenever my husband mentions buying a carpet-runner so her 'knees don't get hurt'. I'm also known for allowing her to climb all the way up on her activity-center and stand there with her arms in the air, laughing maniacly as she knows she's done something extraordinary.

When my daughter falls down, instead of freaking out, I simply hold my daughter, speak calmly, and then let her cry it out. I do not a. tear up and cry, b. immediately remove whatever she fell from/off, or c. continue moping about the accident for minutes afterward. Once she stops crying, we just continue playing without qualms.

I give her a bath every three days (She's 14 months for reference). I wash her hands after meals or upon coming home from a dirt-eating park trip. The rest of the time I simply swab her down with a wet-wipe when the thought comes to mind.

We've got our outlets covered, and have created a playroom in our family room with baby-gates. Yet, we haven't locked the gates in place, and when we're with her, we allow her to open the door and explore around the house. All cleaning stuff is put up high and all medicinal products are in sealed boxes. But everything else is out for her to find, and she does. We don't use cupboard locks or corner-guards and I don't use a rubber ducky in her bathtub that tells me "HOT" when the temperature is too hot.

All that being said, I'm starting to wonder how far down the spectrum I am when it comes to how protective a parent can be. I always question myself when I overhear mothers in my playgroup quote the cost of having their entire house baby-proofed or witness them haul #%^ across a room after seeing their child pick up a found Cheerio of yore.