Damn You and Damn that Vacuum!

Nealie is now more mobile than ever; she pulls up on everything, attempts small steps and crawls faster than Meeshka, sometimes. I came home yesterday and our babysitter informed me that Nealie seemed to have hit her head on the coffee table but didn't seem to notice. We knew the day was coming, since the table is made of granite. Our idea was to line the coffee table with pipe insulation and duct tape so that she would, quite literally, bounce off if she came into contact with it.

When she discovered her "new toy" today, she spent a good half hour circling and pulling up to standing. I started doing some chores around the house while keeping her well in my sites. Or so I thought. Although Nealie had gone around to the side of the coffee table that was adjacent to the couch, she hadn't returned for a few minutes. I ventured over, and an angelic face smiled up at me. Figuring she was fine, I sat down on the couch and began conversing with the explorer. After running her fingers across the floor a couple of times, she lifted her sweet little fingers to her lips. There it was: a slobbery piece of pipe insulation!

For the terrified and appalled individuals reading this, we definitely did not line the coffee table with fiberglass insulation. It is made of foam, the same material the ones in Babies R Us are made of. But, I still wasn't too excited about my daughter eating it! Creating a rather demanding fish hook with my finger, I scooped the small piece out of her clenched mouth (must have Curt's jaw...) and threw it in the garbage.

Of course, now I was concerned that there might be more pieces left over from the construction the night before. I scooped up Nealie, who would rather run from me than be held at this given moment, and deposited her into her ExerSaucer. Then, I brought out the vacuum to complete the job at hand. I have vacuumed since Nealie was born, often holding her or placing her in that same play device, but Nealie is...changing. She has started to experience emotion in a way only a very dramatic woman would understand -- as I do:). I started the vacuum and what happened next took me by surprise. Nealie's face turned to one of absolute horror and fear. Gaping silence was all her face expressed. I turned off the vacuum and reassured her that everything would be okay. I tried again. And again. And again, every time with the same results.

Eventually, I got half of the living room vacuumed while holding her and chanting, "Everything's okay, it's going to be all right." But what do I know? All I can do is try to share the same safety and comfort that was provided to me as a child. Luckily, we get to start with small challenges, like vacuums.