This means we have to baby proof the house. Currently, we baby proof by watching her really closely and keeping her off of the hardwood. Not sure why the hardwood is so dangerous (and I obviously failed at it this morning as the picture above clearly shows) but JD is adamant that she can crack her skull on it.
Our place is basically a death trap in its present state. According to websites and other parents who are
smarter more experienced than us, we need outlet covers, gates, door locks, cabinet traps and other precautionary items. I guess we thought we'd have more time. Or maybe we think we are really good "watchers." But every time I check my email and take my eye off of her for a moment, she is eating my computer power cord with her feet the only visible body part peaking out from under the ottoman. Don't worry, the cord is unplugged from the wall.
JD and I promised each other we'd never have that house that looked like Babies R Us exploded in it. We wanted the living room to house furniture only, no toy piles allowed. Oh how naive we were. Baby proofing just seemed like a good way to mess up our house. Until now. We are in desperate need of a major safety overhaul. But in typical JD-Aly fashion, instead of doing the normal things like getting those outlet covers and baby gates, we are discussing getting rid of furniture. Because she could bump her head or worse, try to climb a bookshelf. So now, instead of those pesky toy piles that we forbade to exist in our living room, we push the ottoman out of the way so she has the entire area rug to play on. The ottoman serves as a great baby gate. This works for now but it is a royal pain in the rear to rearrange furniture a couple times a day.
This week we will probably break down and get the necessary baby proofing items. It's not that we don't want her to be safe, I think this whole mobile phase just snuck up on us and as first timers we are learning our way. But I wouldn't be surprised if our house ends up looking like one of those jump bounce houses that are all the rage at children's birthday parties. We wouldn't want her to bump her head.