Baby Jail

The time has come for PDG to go to jail.  Baby Jail.  (Please let this be the only jail cell my precious PDG ever enters).

What is it, you ask.  Well, it's this little area, pictured below, where he can safely maneuver without fear of ingesting something choke-hazardly or having any heavy objects topple onto him.

Now, this wouldn't be such a necessity if a) that TV were already secured like it needs to be, b) I didn't personally know a family whose daughter is physically and mentally handicapped as a result of a television falling on her and c) I were a better mom.

Ok, I'll cut myself some slack there.  But, you know, I can't be everywhere at once.  I want PDG to explore and learn without me following around always saying "no" or "not that toy" or "where did you find that."  And sometimes I need to get things done in rooms that aren't fully safe for him.

There are enough horror stories out there of accidents that happen when you don't expect, or in the quick minute you turn to answer the door/check the stove/put away some laundry that I needed a solution.

Now, since the TV issue is the biggest and most likely culprit of an accident, we have a solution on its way that can be anchored down.  But even so, sometimes a mama wants to go to the bathroom and a PDG wants to come along.  This way everyone wins.

Oh, and turns out, PDG really likes independent play.  I was just out of sight for a while this morning doing some chores (yeah, now I'm that mom that does chores on a snow day instead of endless marathons of teen drama tv shows) and PDG didn't make a peep to say he missed me.  Just that perfect semi-toothed grin when I walked back around the corner and said "Mommy's here!"

PS - thanks Miss L for the baby gates, Spot book and Corey Combine that are all in heavy rotation around here.  The hand-me-downs are always the faves with PDG