I was having a funny conversation with my parents the other day about raising kids. We were talking about how my friend’s grandma had two sets of twins 14 months apart. Can you imagine? Hearing that makes me immediately feel like a real weenie when I sometimes struggle with two (ok, a lot of the time). And then there are Brian’s parents who both come from families of nine. NINE! I would like a snapshot into that life (but just a snapshot). And these women were not running out to Starbucks on a bad day, or taking their kids to Chipotle when they didn’t feel like cooking.
My parents responded with…”playpens, they had playpens for goodness sake!”
I thought about setting up a playpen (a.k.a. pack n’ play) for George when he started to crawl and pull himself up on the furniture. That point when I realized I could no longer make dinner on my own, not sanely at least. And then I considered one of those play yards. But then after mentioning this to a few friends who retorted to something along the lines of… “you are not…” I thought “Yes! Have you seen our house at dinner?!”
In the end, I never set up the pack n’ play or purchased a yard, but still contain him at times (with chair blockades). And I’m all about some crib-time if he’s awake while I shower.
While I can only offer anecdotal notes on this situation, this article has some real meat. What’s your take?
p.s. that’s my brother Charlie in the playpen.