During nap, I got down on my hands and knees, and started crawling all over our apartment. Holy crap. I'm surprised we've all lived this long. Nail polish remover under the bathroom sink, twenty-five plugs leading to the same outlet, lamp cords hanging all willy nilly, pennies under the couch. There are ice skates on the floor in the entry closet, fabric softener sheets behind the dresser, the entertainment stand is top heavy and not anchored to the wall, litter box on the floor (Good Lord, what would I do if she ate cat poop? Gross.), and leaky carpet cleaner under the kitchen sink. Baby killers. Everywhere.
My first step? The poison control phone number posted on the refrigerator. Hey, I'm a realist. Bad things can happen to good parents, too. With that done, I put latches on all kitchen cupboards except for one, I figured Mads would be extremely happy to have access to at least one cupboard door. I filled it with tupperware and pots and pans. Latches on the bathroom cupboards, outlet plugs on the ones that were missing, and mini-blind cords hung where baby hands can't reach. I sucked up about sixty pounds of cat hair that had somehow gotten behind the couch, sucked up pennies, a paperclip, bobby pins, and one unfortunate lady bug.
I'm going to the hospital to visit Sum and the baby, and on the way back I'm going to survey the baby safety aisle at Target to see what I missed. I have a sheet of Mr. Yuk stickers that Jeffrey can't wait to apply (Babies don't know Mr. Yuk? Are you sure?), and I'm going to pick up a baby gate to block off the hallway from someone on Craigslist.
Hopefully when I do my post-proofing crawl-through tonight, I'll be able to sleep.