I never thought I’d be one for a gated community. However, before our first child even celebrated his first birthday, my husband and I had no choice but to start putting gates up across the stairway, the kitchen, the bathroom and any other pathway leading to possible destruction and/or bodily harm. It wasn’t long after that initial safety sweep that our location was fully secured with militaristic intensity 24 hours a day.

Or so we thought.

The incessant running, climbing and unbridled curiosity soon began to completely take over our once-barrier-free abode, and our toddler security system was rapidly forced into even greater expansion. Our son’s table-scaling eventually resulted in us strapping all of the dining room chairs together with bungee cords to defend against unwanted free fall attempts. Although our efforts curbed the teetering dangerously three feet above hardwood floors, the fastening of our chairs to our table seemed to come as quite a surprise to guests.

Also surprising to visitors were our seemingly impenetrable hidden magnet cupboard locks. We often ended up snickering quietly to ourselves as we observed friends and family struggle to unlock the secrets of our magical cabinet doors, seemingly glued shut with no reasonable chance of dislodging them. The brief comic relief was not of much conciliation compared with the self-imposed imprisonment we began to face within the confines of our own home, however.

Yes, having to pry a stubborn little piece of opaque plastic from an electrical outlet, effectively mirroring bamboo fingernail torture, just to vacuum a room was a bit frustrating, I’ll be honest. I also did not take giving up the right to move dressers and cabinets on an interior design whim, because they are securely fastened to the nearest wall, lightly. No doubt bruised knees from constantly trying to hurdle bigger and better gates was also inconvenient, but it kept our little guy safe until he acquired the gross motor skills and the logical sense to roam freely.

Yet, at that point, we then decided to have another little one. And then another. And then we found out that, despite our veteran childproofing status, keeping a toddler safe with a 4-year-old and a 7-year-old in the house plops you right back to plotting from square one. The regular falling, burning, accidental poisoning and electrocution toddler pitfalls are enough to worry about without having to account for the magnitude of small, chokeable items possessed by older siblings. Coming up with a comprehensive defense strategy that works is especially grueling when child number three has taken on the phrase “bigger, faster, stronger” to define her place in the family. (OK, she’s actually smaller than the other two were, but the faster and stronger are fairly accurate.)

My understanding of the third child was that she would quietly do her own thing. I assumed quietly doing her own thing meant sitting in a corner and looking at a book. I never imagined it to mean stealthily practicing each and every physical maneuver modeled by her siblings, but completely dangerous and inappropriate for the likes of a one-year-old, day after day after day.

It’s exhausting trying to stay one step ahead of her dangerous feats. Just as we all become accustom to one system of barriers, a loud thud tells us that said barrier has been breached and that leaving it up has become more dangerous than removing it altogether. In fact, we have found that any kingdom of obstacles and barricades is ultimately no match for childhood precociousness.

Still, we keep trying. I am starting to realize that this cat and mouse game will continue on long after early childhood. We’ll keep attempting to set boundaries, and our children will continue to master them. I have to admit that, despite my outward exasperation, I always feel a twinge of pride when one of my children figures out how to disgrace a childproof lock by prying it open or thinks to move a stepstool across the room and place it up against the counter in order to snag that last sliver of chocolate. Each obstacle surmounted gives me confidence that they will have the perseverance, the ability and the courage to take on whatever it is this unpredictable life chooses to throw their way.

Shannon and her husband Michael are raising three children in Sylvania. E-mail her at letters@toledofreepress.com.

Tags: Family Practice

This entry was posted on Thursday, August 26th, 2010 at 2:08 pm and is filed under Arts and Life, Family Practice.
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