Windows

I don't remember the exact age our older son started playing with windows, but I know it was before he entered preschool.

It sure didn't take a long time living with this child before I realized that all of the inventors behind the babyproofing devices at the baby supply stores were mere novices. I was positive I could hire out his services. He could beat any child safety lock, and that included window locks.

I can still see his face practically mocking us as we installed our first lock.

I ran a search for the item and can't even find an image for it. If it is no longer in production, perhaps it is for the best. Mounted flush with the window sill, it also had an arm that attached to the lower window. In the middle of the device was a button which regulated how far apart the arm could move from its base. Unfortunately, clearly printed on that button were "locked" and "unlocked" icons.

I know our son was young, but he was no dummy. He knew what these pictures meant, and so unlocking this "child safety lock" proved to be a no-brainer.


Has anyone ever tried this one?

Yeah, that flap breaks off...

I still have a pack of these. It reads, "Slide enables disengagement for periods of non use."

BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA! Foiled before even getting out of the starting gate!

Oh, a lot of this was a game to our son. We entertained him. But, he was also getting the message that we didn't want him to play in the windows. Exactly why we didn't want this, I'm sure he didn't know. He had no danger awareness at the time. So, after showing us that that we were fools to think we could lock him away from his window play, he would back off...for a while.

Window play always returned.

At one point, my husband simply hammered a few nails into the window frames. It was around that time that our son learned how to use the back of a hammer to remove nails from things---most notably from window frames.

LOL! I love that kid!

Yes, we absolutely care about his safety, and we DID get a security system hard-wired into the house. We were waiting for the day that he learned to crack its code--because that WILL happen-- but I don't think that he's too worried about the code.

For, each window is activated by a tiny little box that sits atop of the window sill and tucked away to the side. The one teensy, eensy problem, is that this box, the integral part to the entire alarm system, is stuck to the window sill with a simple 3M adhesive.

Sorry, 3M, your product, while wonderful, will not stop a determined boy who wants to play in windows.

Hardware locks/keyed lock/things not meant to be locks but worked in a moment of crisis. We've tried just about everything. This child is just GOOD.

Not too long ago, most of the second-floor windows were shut permanently with screws that my husband drilled into the frames in a moment of fear and disgust. Yet, as with the hammer, this child suddenly grew an interest in screwdrivers. I'll take some of the blame for this. I didn't tumble to the reason for the interest. I even agreed when school asked if they could provide opportunities for him to take things apart with a screwdriver...

...you know, to HONE THE SKILL.

Not long after that, I was in my kitchen. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the boys were seemingly occupied. Our younger son was chatting away to me, and I had the video monitor on our older son. I could hear his babbling.

But, something wasn't right. That babbling, it wasn't coming through the monitor. I walked into the room adjacent to the kitchen and did a quick robo-sweep of that side of the house with my mommy senses ( parents, you know what I mean by this!). He wasn't there. But, truly, his voice was close---closer than it would be if he were upstairs and the sound was coming to me through a monitor.

I don't know what made me do it, but something told me to turn around and take a step toward the kitchen door. Just look outside, the voice inside my head suggested.

When I did, I discovered with horror that our son had unscrewed the screws securing a second story window. He managed to open that window and also the old fashioned storm windows behind it. There he was, leaning waaaaayyyyy out of the window from his waist, ever-so-casually, peeling the paint off of the siding to our home.

Stop.

I can't go on with this story another moment. Anything any of you are thinking as you read this, believe me, I thought it as well. He's okay, and once I secured that fact, I didn't know if I should hug him or spank him.

One thing I learned that day:

One thing I felt that day:

One final thought on the future of windows in this house: