Buried with Children

Sexy Mom Pajamas

Jen — Fri, 03 Feb 2012 00:44:38 +0000

I get dressed.

Yup that’s right every day, I get dressed.

Some days, it is just changing from the yoga pants and sweat shirt I slept in to another set of yoga pants and a clean shirt but I get dressed.

And I also brush my teeth, comb my hair and put at least one swipe of mascara on my eye lashes.

I do this every day because back when I was pregnant with Hayden, I made a promise to myself that I would get dressed. I would try and feel like a person instead of just a frumpy mom.

That being said, at the end of the day and sometimes even before dinner, my favorite thing to do is to shed my clothes, put on some jammies and let the frump fly.

After a long day of being stuffed into clothes the frump just needs to be released in the form of jammies and often times, this needs to be before dinner.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am a lover of fashion and I like to look nice but there is just something about wearing jammies that is so well, comforting and freeing.

When I saw them at Kohl’s, I just knew that they had to be mine.

The fuzzy material and softness called to me so much so that I debated for about 15 minutes, well the kids played ring around the rosies around some woman in a power chair, if I could just put them on in the store and wear them for the rest of the day.

Getting new jammies was not why I came into Kohl’s but sometimes the clearance rack produces magical things that must leave the store with us.

“Yeah, mommy!” Claire said as I pulled them off the rack, “Are you going to get those?! They are so soft and just like mine.”

I smiled at her and decided it was meant to be. I must take these jammies home and wear them immediately.

But unfortunately, the day got away from me and I couldn’t change into my new jammies as quickly as I would like. I did, however, decided to change just before Jeff’s got home.

I was proudly strutting my stuff around the kitchen in full fluffy soft comfort when he walked in.

“Did you do a little shopping at mommypajamas.com today?!” he said

“What?!” I said doing a full spin in the kitchen, “These are awesome. You know you like them.”

Jeff rolled his eyes and turned to put his laptop and coat away.

“Oh come on, they are not that bad. I know that they skating polar bears are a little much but they were on sale and feel them, they are so soft and comfy,” I say defending my new purchase.

Again Jeff rolled his eyes at me.

“Whatever! You know these are sexy! I know you like my pink fuzzy polar bear jammies,” I said as I turned my back towards him to finish dinner.

With that statement Jeff began to laugh, ” Ha! Those are so sexy that I am thinking about never having sex with you again and taking a vow of celibacy.”

“Fine, but just know… you are missing out on all this,” I said as I did my best sexy body roll that probably looked more like I was having some weird seizure or trying to poop. ”I am to sexy for my jammies and you know it!”

Math is Hard

Jen — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 14:16:55 +0000

“Come on kids, let’s go get in the van!” I called across the house.

Every day at 3:46pm, I call Jake, Quinn and Claire and we go to the van to drive to the bus stop to get Hayden. The little kids think this is the best time of day because since we just drive down our private road, they don’t have to wear seat belts or shoes.

This is also the time when we drive up to the mailbox.

On our street, the mailboxes are all gathered together in a central location. When the weather is nice, we usually walk to get the mail but in the cold wet snow, it’s just easier to quickly drive.

I love to get the mail.

There is just something exciting about opening the mailbox, pulling out the pile of papers and seeing what is there. I secretly hope for something special from a friend or a random present sent by a stranger but usually it’s just bills, ad fliers and junk mail.

This really disappoints me but I just smile and remember that tomorrow is another day for the mail and maybe, just maybe, there will be something special there then.

As we waited in the van for the bus to pull up, I did my usual scan of the mail and the last piece that I came to was a post card from a company that offers math tutoring. I was about to trash it when I turned it over to find a little quiz to give to your child to see if they were at the level they should be.

I was reading over it when I began to wonder about Hayden’s math level. I don’t want him to be left behind so I decided I would ask him and see what he could do.

But soon the chaos of getting off the bus, going back home and breaking up a fight about how Jake was not 22 years old, made me forgot about the card. I didn’t give it a second thought until I was going through the mail again.

Then my little plan for Hayden came back to me.

I was just about to call Hayden in to ask him some of the questions when I decided that maybe I should take the test myself. Math has never been my strong suit but I should at least be able to get through grade school math. How hard could this test really be?

First Grade: 11 + 12 =__ Well, this was no problem, 23.

Second Grade: 1+2+3+4+5+6+7+8+9+10 =__ Ok, I can do this, 55. That was a little difficult and a calculator would have made it easier but I can do that. Thank goodness, I can use my fingers.

Third Grade: How much is 99 plus 99 plus 99? Um? 297. Ok yeah, that took some work and yeah, I totally need a calculator.

Fourth Grade: Count by 1 3/4 from 0 to 7. Wait? What?! That is how you count.

Fifth Grade: Which is greatest: 17/18, 23/30 or 18/19 (Explain how you go this answer.) Huh?!

Sixth Grade: Halfway through the second quarter, how much of the game is left? What? What game? What are they talking about?

Seventh Grade: How much is 6 1/2% of 250? Isn’t this why there is a calculator on my smart phone. Yeah, I need a calculator.

Pre-Algebra: On a certain map, 6 inches represents 25 miles. How many miles does 15 inches represent? Isn’t this why I can a GPS lady in my car?!

Algebra: When you take 3 away from twice a number, the answer is 8. What is that number? Are they asking me in English? What in the world are they talking about?

Geometry: What is the Absolute Value of the point (3,4)? Is this question about vodka?!

“Mom!” Hayden said calling me back to reality and away from my disgust with this math, “Look at what I got at school today.”

He showed my a small water bottle.

“Oh that is cool. Why did you get that?” I asked.

“Because I was able to list all 50 states,” Hayden said with a big grin and then proceeded to rattle off about 20 states at random.

Dumbfounded, I just looked at my kid and then back at the math test card still in my hand.

“Hey, Hayden…” I began and proceeded with my plan, asking him the first three questions on the test. I watched him think about each one and then answer them all correctly.

“Show off!” I thought to myself as I hugged him close, kissed his head. I decided that it would be better parenting to be encouraging so I said, “That is awesome, buddy. You are so smart.”

He scampered away and two things ran through my mind.

In math, I am no smarter than a first grader and Jeff is totally going to be helping with all the math homework.

*Just so you know, I am not affiliated with this tutoring company at all. Although, I might want to look into it for myself.

The Booger Wall

Jen — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 14:38:42 +0000

I am not sure why but one afternoon after I shooed the little kids up the stairs for a rest time, I decide that I would crawl up the stairs like a bar and playfully scare the kids.

“Grrrr! Here I come” I growled, “And I am hungry for some little kid toes.”

Fits of laughter and squeals of delight erupt from the kids bedrooms.

“No, mommy! Don’t get me.” Quinn yelled.

“Mommy Bear!” Claire screamed.

“I will kill you bear with my ninja powers,” Jake said.

“Grrr… Grrr!” I said as I crawled closer and closer to Jake and Quinn’s room.

Then suddenly as I was about to enter the boy’s room, I stopped. “What in the world?!” I said my voice no longer a bear but a mommy.

When you are crawling on all fours on the floor, it gives you a different view of the world and just as I was about to enter their room, I saw something that I would have never seen when I was upright.

I moved my head in closer for a better look.

“What is that?!” I said again while looking at the wall, “Is that what I think it is?”

I reached out to touch the wall and as I did, I realized yup… I had found a booger wall.

This whole time the kids were silent. It was like they realized what I had stumbled upon and were telepathically telling each other, like triplets do, to be quiet, stick to the triplet code and keep the secret.

“Why are there boogers on the wall?” I asked looking at them all. “Who has been wiping their boogers on the wall? We don’t do that.”

The kids their silence and I could almost see the telepathic conversation going on in their heads, “No one say a word. Silence, that is how we will beat this. Silence. Up hold the code!”

I gave my look to the kids but nothing was going to crack them and to be honest, I wasn’t really wanting to fight this battle because if you think about it, a booger wall is just part of being a kid.

I remember having one and getting yelled at for it. I had to scrub it clean and after naps that is just what I would make the kids do because Lord knows, when they use their ‘triplet code’ power there is no breaking them.

(Also note to self, find out how to break this ‘triplet code’ before teen years hit.)

“From now on, you will use tissues for your boogers,” I said, “Am I understood?!”

Each child nodded in agreement and then I left the room but as I was walking back downstairs something about this booger wall struck me as odd.

The wall was not in the boy’s room right next to their beds as mine was when I was a kid. No, it was in the hall which meant that when someone had a booger they had to get out of bed, walk through the room to the hall, wipe the booger on the wall and then walk back to bed.

Why kids do the thing they do is beyond me.

In my mind, it would make more sense to take a few extra steps to go into the bathroom and grab a tissue. But that probably makes too much sense, especially for a child and a boy child at that.

I should probably stop trying to figure them out and save my brain cells for more important things like how to win at Angry Birds or how to put Spanx on without breaking a sweat.

My Teen Idol

Jen — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 02:02:48 +0000

I was a very weird child.

I already told you about how I was a late bloomer for most things but that really is not even that half of it.

Back in the early 90’s, specifically 1994, I was obsessed.

Now, you are probably nodding your head because what young girl just beginning her teens, was not obsessed with all things pop culutre.

What young girl didn’t squeal with delight when ‘New Kids on the Block’ or ‘All 4 One’ came on the radio?

What young girl didn’t drool over Keanu Reeves in ‘Speed’?

And what young girl didn’t swoon when Zach Morris came on TV in ‘Saved by the Bell’?

Well, I will tell you what girl didn’t… me.

That’s right. When all my friends were going boy crazy and acting like idiots over the guys on TV, I was downstairs in my basement practicing doing triple axles. You know, the super difficult jump that most Olympic women’s skater’s tried to land to ensure themselves a gold medal?!

I was certain that I was going to nail that jump and become a famous figure skater like my idol… Nancy Kerrigan.

Of course, I needed to try it on actual ice and probably learning how to ice skate would have been a good idea. But I continued to practice on the carpet and thought I was hot stuff when I did my jump turn in the air and landed on my feet keeping myself and all the furniture intact.

But no matter what, I was going to be a figure skater.

That’s right back in the early 90’s I was obsessed with figure skating. I couldn’t get enough of it and watched each competition religiously.

Well thankfully, there was a huge event that would take place in the winter of 1994 to feed my obsession… the winter Olympics. And my idol, Nancy Kerrigan was looking like she was going to take the gold.

I was so excited. I loved Nancy. I felt like her little sister and when I found out that her birthday was three days before mine, I knew that we were meant to be. I wrote her a letter and told her of my undying love for her and that we had almost the same birthday. She sent me an autographed photo and that photo became my prized possession.

In fact, that photo started my shrine to Nancy Kerrigan.

Much to my mom’s distaste, I took one of the walls of my bedroom and filled it floor to ceiling with photos of Nancy. Much like this collage only on a much, much larger scale.

I just loved to look at Nancy and dream of skating like her.

Then something terrible happened to my beautiful Nancy. She became the center of a terrible, terrible plot that tried to end her skating career. A jealous and evil skater had her husband and body guard whack Nancy’s knee to try and stop her from competing.

I was devastated. And when Nancy cried, “Why why why?! Why me?!” I cried it too. Oh, I hated Tonya Harding and what she did. I followed the news coverage of this story like a hawk. I made people save every single magazine and newspaper article about it. Why? So I could add more pictures to my bedroom wall.

Tonya was just so mean and I laughed when she cried because her boot lace got caught making her skate poorly in the Olympics and unable to complete her infamous triple axle.

Oh stupid, Tonya. Your boot lace didn’t make you fail at figure skating, the fact that you are not Nancy Kerrigan did. She is the winner. And besides, figure skating is not hard, I can totally do it… in my basement on the carpet.

See, I told you I was obsessed and knew every detail.

Well the Olympics came and my beautiful Nancy Kerrigan didn’t do as well as everyone had hoped and won silver instead of gold. Then she mumbled some words about an other skater being too whinny, my mom made take down my ‘Wall o’ Nancy’, I found boys and that was the end of that.

But every now and again, I bust out one of my half carpet axles, usually fall and sprain my ankle, and remember what could have been. I was almost the next Nancy Kerrigan.

The Scream Maker

Jen — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 19:27:34 +0000

I thought the kid’s preschool teacher liked me.

I thought that we had a good relationship.

Well, I thought wrong.

Why do they even make toys like this?

*turn the volume up really, really loud. No, I am kidding. Don’t unless you like headaches.*

(There is a video to watch, click here to see it and while you are there, subscribe to my YouTube Channel)

One Thing Children are Good at… Entertainment

Jen — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 02:35:23 +0000

My children never fail to entertain me.

Why just one afternoon when they went out to play in the snow and I was totally entertained by their antics.

Yeah, sledding on a snow board. This is a great idea… not!

Aw, they are going to work together. That is so nice.

Oh, Jake. That boy…

When there is teamwork, you must quote the Wonder Pets!

Ok, now she is using her head… make the boy do the heavy lifting.

But this boy gets distracted easily.

And apparently, needed a nap.

This post is part of Wordful Wednesday

It’s Called Discipline… Use it!

Jen — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 01:35:46 +0000

“Billy, stop that right now!” she said.

As I walked the triplets into school, I saw their little friend Billy messing around with one of the doors.

“Billy, stop!” his mom said again.

I smiled at her politely and set the backpacks down as Jake, Quinn and Claire removed their coats. They all then ran off to go join Billy and some of the other kids.

With Billy now distracted by the presence of other kids, he stopped messing around.

“He is just so naughty,” his mom said in my directions.

“Oh, crap!” I thought, “Some how my sympathetic smile made her think that I was again willing to listen to her bitch and complain about her son.”

“He never listens to me,” she began, “I just don’t know what to do.”

I nodded my head in agreement because whether I wanted her too or not, she was going to spill her guts to me. She began to talk about how Billy is always taking off his glasses and putting them in random places and then can’t remember where he put them. She went on and on about how this drives her crazy because glasses are expensive and they can’t afford to get a new pair.

As she talked, I glanced away to monitor my kid’s behavior. Jake, Quinn and Claire were stand there watching Billy as he was rolling through the hall.

“Billy, get up now!” his mom said.

Billy didn’t even give her a sideways glance and just kept rolling.

“Billy! Get… Up!!” she said. Billy stuck his tongue out at her and continued to roll. But then stopped but not because his mom told him too but because he found a piece of packed snow on the ground.

I shook my head as Billy’s mom went on.

“Ug! He is so naughty!” she sighed.

Even though, I was appalled by his behavior, I could sense her frustration so I tried to help.

“How about a special basket or box that could hold Billy’s glasses. You could get him involved and decorate it with his favorite things and then he can put his glasses in there when he doesn’t want to wear them,” I said.

She looked at me with amazement like I had just said the most awe inspiring words in the English language.

“Oh my goodness! That is a fabulous idea!” she said.

I smiled and once again glanced over at the kids.

“Jacob!” I said sternly, “Don’t even think about throwing that piece of snow. Put it down now or you will sit on the naughty chair.”

Jacob looked at me and then looked at the small ball of snow and decided that the risk of throwing it would be too much. Unfortunately, Billy watched the whole scene with great interest.

As soon as Jake set the snow down, Billy ran over picked up the ball and threw it at the wall.

Billy smiled, his mom didn’t even notice.

“So you think that special box thing will work?!” Billy ’s mom began.

I didn’t look at her as she spoke, I was watching the kids like a hawk. The snowball was now in many pieces and I knew that resisting the urge to throw it was going to be too much for Jake.

“Jacob!” I said as he reached down for some snow, “Come, here… NOW!”

Jake stopped and slowly walked over to me. My stern tone caused Billy’s mom to look over at him and finally pay attention as Billy gathered another handle full of snow.

“Billy, don’t you dare!” she said.

Billy didn’t even blink. He just continued forming a ball.

“Billy, stop or we are going to go home and you will not get to play at preschool!” she said.

With that statement, Billy glanced at his mom as if he was testing her. Would she really get up and remove him from school?

“Billy, put it down now!” she said again. Billy tossed the snowball back and forth between his hands.

“Don’t do it. Because if you throw that snow, we are going home and then when your dad gets home, you are going to be in big trouble.” she said.

Seriously, I wanted to slap the woman in the head. What in the world was she thinking? I wanted her to get up and remove him from the situation. I wanted her to use some form of discipline to stop this.

She turned to me and spoke with a sigh, “He is just so naughty, I just don’t know what to do.” and then to Billy, she said “I mean it, put it down or we are leaving.”

I rolled my eyes and I am pretty sure Billy did too. I couldn’t deal with her any more and I focused my attention on the kids. I had a feeling that this was not going to end well.

Then I watched Billy take the snowball and then launch it in the air straight at Claire.

I couldn’t move fast enough to get her out of the way and she was hit on the side of the head with a snowball.

Her wails filled the hallway.

Finally, Billy’s mom was on her feet.

I gathered Claire in my arms and looked at Billy’s mom right in the eyes, “It’s called discipline! Get off your ass and learn out to use it.”

Tutorial: How to Use Toliet Paper

Jen — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 02:14:19 +0000

I was walking to my bedroom which meant that I had to pass by a bathroom when I saw something that made me stop.

There was a child in the bathroom, door standing wide open and business was being done on the toilet.

Now, I realize that this is not an abnormal thing to see and that was not what made me stop.

It was not what he was doing that caught my eye but what he was holding in his hands.

I walked into the bathroom and pointed, “What is that?!”

The child looked at me and sheepishly said, “Mommy, I need to wipe my butt.”

I removed the wad of toilet paper from the child’s hand and said, “Yes, I know that you need to wipe your butt but you don’t need a half a roll of paper wadded up in a ball to do it.”

It was worse then what I thought. I kid you not but there was almost a whole roll of toilet paper in that ball. No wonder I have to buy toilet paper so often. I mean a jumbo pack of toilet paper from Costco should last a family longer than two weeks.

Then it hit me, no one in this house knows the proper amount of toilet paper to use. They all need a lesson and fast.

That got me thinking. If I struggle with this in my house, I am sure that other people with small children struggle too. That is why I developed this tutorial, with pictures, to help our children learn.

Our children need to be taught the proper amount of toilet paper to use to save our trees and to save the laundry do’ers from oh so many skid marks.

Here is the goal.

Here is what we don’t want compared with what we do just so there is no confusion.

Any questions?!

*please note, the size of the just right toilet paper piece will vary on the size of the messy bottom.

Can We Go Out in the Snow?

Jen — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 15:04:52 +0000

I awake to the sounds of joyous children.

At first, I am very confused. Is it Christmas morning again? Did a magic fairy leave new toys and candies? What would make the children so happy?

I lay in bed trying to think over the noise of all the happy screams when it hits me.

I throw back the covers and run into the kitchen, flip the outside light on and peer out the window.

The glass is cold on my nose which only means one thing… snow.

While we slept our world was finally covered in a white blanket of snow.

“Yeah! Mommy Mommy! Snow! We got snow!!!!” the children all happily scream at me.

I smile at them because their joy is infectious.

“Shit!” my brain says to myself, “What day is it?”

I stand there wondering when Jeff stumbles into the kitchen and says, “It’s Saturday,” just as if he can read my thoughts.

Whew, at least I don’t want to worry about the school morning scramble but when I turn around to face my children, I realize that I am going to have to face something much worse.

I can see it in the eyes…. they want to go outside.

“Please, mommy, please,” they all beg together, “Can we go out and play in the snow?”

I look at them and look at the clock, it’s not even 8am and barely light outside.

“Guys,” I say but know this will fall on deaf ears, “it’s too early to go outside.”

“Please mommy, please!” they all beg again.

“What about breakfast?” I ask. “You need to have breakfast first.”

They look at me and then look at each and in a blink of an eye, they are at the table waiting for cereal.

I putz around the kitchen trying to delay the going outside process for you see, this is the first snow of the season and I have no idea where any of the snow stuff is or if it even will fit the children. I hope that soon the children will forget about their need to play outside in the snow and be seduced by the TV and video game systems instead.

“Mommy, hurry!” they all scream at me, “We want to go outside!”

I put breakfast before the children and with the speed of lions devouring their prey, they inhale the food.

As I stand there impressed with their speed, I realize I need to face the inevitable. There is no way I can stop them from going outside. I walk the the closet where I shove things I don’t want to deal with and begin the process of finding the snow gear.

This closet scares me. I only open it long enough to throw something in there but really have no idea what is actually in there. Monsters or elves could live in there for all I know.

“Mommy, is this my snow pants?” Jake asks holding up a pair of pants that are 3 sizes too small.

Crap! The children have started in on the closet. This will not end well.

I take a deep breath and face my fears, “closet… it’s just you and me.”

I pull out coats and pants and gloves and boats. Some of it too small and some of it just right.

“Mommy, what is this?” Quinn asks.

“Um, I think that is Daddy’s old swim trunks we couldn’t find from last year but I am not sure,” I answer.

Soon I am surrounded by children wiggling into snow pants and recite a steady stream of, “No, those are not yours, they are Hayden’s, No, that is Claire’s. Wrong feet, Jake, Make you sure all go potty before putting snow pants on, Put your boats on first and then your gloves, Please go potty, Spread your fingers wide when instead the glove, Wait, you have to be zipped, Stop you need a hat, Do you want some help, Still… wrong feet Jake, Wait, you actually need to wear your coat.”

Finally, after what seems like hours, they are all properly dressed in snow gear that sorta of fits and off they go.

As the garage door shuts behind the last child leaving, I stumble back into my bedroom and flop on the bed.

“Well, that was exhausting,” I say to no one but hope someone will hear and have sympathy on me.

I lay there just listening to the silence and take a deep breath to relax my tense, stressed out body.

The quiet that has come over the house makes the snow dressing battle kind of worth it.

Suddenly the garage door bursts open.

“Mommy!” they yell, “It is rweally cold outside!”

By now they are all inside and stripping off the snow gear sending pieces of snow flying all over the house.

I wonder if I blacked out and missed a chunk of time. Could be possible, I had fallen asleep for a half hour or so which in my mind was a good amount of time to play outside. Seriously, more than five minutes had to have had past.

I sit up and watch my children fall all over each other while shedding their snow pants.

“Mommy, can we have hot chocolate?” they ask now climbing on the bed touching my with their cold hands.

I look at them all and say the only thing my tired body can muster, “I don’t know, go find daddy.”

Un-Child Proofing

Jen — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 01:44:35 +0000

I have begun the process of un-child proofing our house.

No, I am not talking about taking all the chemicals and poisons that are in the house and handing them to the children. I am talking about the process of taking back my house from my children and the destruction they caused.

This process is very long and involved and for us started about a year and a half ago when we finished our basement and gave each kid their own room, expect for Jake and Quinn they share.

With the basement finished, all the toys were moved out of the living room, organized and placed in bins, books were placed on shelves instead of in easy access bins, each child got their own space and the baby things moved on for someone else to stumble over.

The house is slowly becoming a house that holds people instead of a place that stores all the random crap that babies need.

Just like when you child proof, when you un-child proof, there are a million things to do. The list is long and may take years to complete.

I have big plans for my house but I can only take it one step at a time.

The step that I am on right now is furniture.

My children destroyed my furniture. Just look at our couch, it is so sad, uncomfortable and pitiful that I can barely give it the joy of cradling my ass.

It needs to be put out of it’s misery and become fire wood.

And even though we need to replace our upstairs couch, we went a little off course and replaced an even worse couch in our basement first.

That is right, we got some new furniture.

Just look at our new couch, it’s so pretty.

Oh, I am so in love with this couch! I have to say that the thing that I love the most is that it’s all in one piece and not bleeding stuffing all over the room.

But we now have a new problem.

The children.

You see, with the old couch they were used to jumping, climbing, running, vomiting, spilling and sneezing on it. Now that we have a new couch, none of that is allowed.

So Jeff and I have begun the process of breaking our children of this bad habit that we let go on for so long.

We have put alarms on the couch that release terrible awful noise when the children walk by.

We have put nails on the couch to hurt the children when they try to climb.

We have set fire to the area around the couch to discourage use.

We have had a Witch Doctor put spells on the couch so that any child jumping on it will be freaked out in the night by their toys.

We have….

What?!

You think that this is all too harsh?

It is all just part of the un-child proofing process but maybe you are right.

I suppose it would be fair to say that none of the things listed above are happening. But don’t think, I haven’t thought about it. The only real thing we have been doing is watching that couch like a hawk and when someone jumps, runs, climbs, spits, anything but sits on it they are marched straight to the naughty chair.

I just want to have nice things.

Is that too much to ask?!

Which reminds me…. anyone got any extra ear plugs? Because of this new couch there is a whole lot of naughty chair sitting which means there is a whole lot of crying going on over here and it’s giving me a headache.

Yup, it’s all part of the un-child proofing process.