My Safe Room

by Cathy Jameson

Two baby gates surround my kitchen entrances.  Anti-door knob devices are attached to every bathroom door.  A special lock secures our outside doors.  All cabinets with tasty snacks at kid-level are locked. Am I afraid? Am I paranoid?  Nope, I have a child who is loaded with metals.  He’s the Houdini of Little People trying to get one step ahead of me.

Once, when we had visitors, Ronan escaped from our sight.

My husband and I went into heightened alert searching all the usual places Ronan tries to infiltrate.  Unfortunately, Ronan is drawn to water—any water.  We found him happily propped up on the seat, sitting backwards in the toilet, legs fully covered in water smiling broadly. He was trying to splash and flick while showering our bathroom with freshly-flushed water.  Straight to the tub that boy went.  Do you think he learned a lesson?  Not in your life!  He probably thought he was being rewarded as Steve filled our Jacuzzi tub with gallons of water and disinfecting soap to get that sneaky kid squeaky clean.  Ronan was ecstatic as he continued to splash.

Do we chalk this up to age?  Do we think, hey, Ronan is getting older and wiser; he’s figuring out how to do things now.  Over two years ago as a toddler, Ronan would just sit on the couch and moan all day long. He was so bloated and stuck in a terrible brain fog that we couldn’t get Ronan to walk!  These days, I feel like I’m Inspector Clouseau sneaking around my own house looking for a petty perpetrator trying to get his fat little fingers into the cookie cabinet.  When I spy the little pickle who has found the cabinet unlocked (thanks to the frazzled Mommy) Ronan runs like the dickens cramming a gluten-laced cookie down his throat.  Squealing as I get closer, with my claw-like grip descending, I stop Ronan swiftly in his tracks.  I pry the cookie free and am left staring at the happiest kid in the world.  Mommy chased me--it’s playtime!  Ugh, I go back to the kitchen, wash the chewed up cookie goo off my hands and return to my role as warden. I lock everything in sight.

I resort to using the microwave as my fruit cabinet. I am forced to hide the fruit bowl after three apples were heisted by former said perpetrator.  Oh, Ronan looked like a fat piggy at a luau with an apple sucked tightly to his red lips.  Teeth marks seared the apple as I once again started the Ronan race through the house.  As I pried the mangled fruit free from Ronan’s clutches, a large chunk fell to the floor. Ronan has never been nimble because of his ataxia and very delayed fine motor skill.  You’d never know that as Ronan swooped down ever so quickly to retrieve and shove that final chunk of apple in.  Darn it to heck!  I have to be more vigilant with the food.

Steve often travels for work.  I have four kids and me to take care of on those long trips he’s away. I now understand that phrase I heard all my childhood that Moms have eyes in the back of their heads. I have eyes everywhere and they are constantly focused on Ronan.  He is very unaware of safety and of rules.  He is very unaware that he is giving me more white hairs every week!

Before Steve left on his last trip, I asked that we finally enclose our large kitchen. It has two entrances—one from the hallway that has a standard-length doorway. The other side leading to the dining room is not standard. The knee wall of the breakfast bar and the pantry are not even.  Getting a regular baby gate to keep little people out of the kitchen should be so easy to install.  It isn’t.  We shake our fists at the Jameson monkey gods--only we would have something which should be so easy become incredibly complicated.

I have a husband who is known in his circle of work friends as MacGyver. He’s turned a phone book into a concealed camera.  He’s turned every day objects into tools.  The guy’s a genius and enjoys a challenge.  I’m so proud that I married someone who can do more than just bang a hammer to a nail.  Steve creates masterpieces both for work and at home.

Three trips to the hardware store, hours of measuring and tweaking and finally installing the oversized and uneven kitchen blockade, Steve came through with another work of art.  I now have one room in the house that is kid-free and Mommy-safe.  I can cook without Ronan trying to climb the hot stove.  I can wash dishes without him climbing the lip of the cabinet door to the sink for a flickfest. I can leave the refrigerator unlocked and not worry that Ronan will take the garlic bread out of the freezer trying to eat it through the wrapper.  I can be here with the kids in sight but not be surrounded by the kids.  Wahoo!

The gates has been up less than a week. Is it successful?  The baby is small enough that she figured out how to commando crawl under one gate into the kitchen.  That was the night I left the dishwasher open and she was taking out the cutlery piece by piece and dropping it on the floor—yep, steak knives and all. 

Oh, and Ronan?  He figured out how to unlock the gate and tried to steal a banana I left on the counter. It’s a constant worry when you have a kid with metals swimming through his body. Not only do you worry about the long-lasting effects of the toxins on his organs, but you worry about the daily living skills you didn’t think you’d have to prepare for.  You change your mind about a lot of things when your child gets needlessly injured.  You want to change your child back to the sweet and typical child he was.  You become a superhero in your own right ready to leave your safe room in a single bound for the sake of his life and his safety and for your other kids God has given you.

Your kids—typical or not—keep you doing everything imaginable to make every day livable and eventually laughable.  The baby tried three more times to shimmy her way into my safe room.  I’ll keep scooping her up and returning her to the kid zone.  My safe room is for me and right now, only for me.

Cathy Jameson has 4 children. Her husband dreams up cool forts and safety devices for his kids but most especially for Ronan who is vaccine injured.  They pray that Ronan’s road to recovery is safer thanks to their constant watching and doing for him.  cathy@stphilomenagroup.org

Comments

[Jennifer]

I am in awe of you! Ronan sounds like a pistol! He has got to be a really bright little guy to keep putting it over on you. You're
a very smart mommy! Isn't it wonderful how God gives each of us the Grace to deal with the daily challenges! No matter what my guys dish out during our days together, there is nobody I'd rather spend my time with! Mother-Love is such a Blessing!

[MamaBear]

I read this to my sister-in-law; between the 2 of us we have 7 children, all of whom were typical. Trust us - we still would have LOVED to have had a kid-free, Mommy-safe room when our kids were little. Maybe these should be standard issue on all family homes!

Thanks again for writing about a solemn subject with such joy and optimism.