Special paint for a special problem.

I realize that many, if not most, young children have an abundance of energy and curiosity and occasionally put themselves in precarious situations. But, I think I’ve mentioned before that Toddler 1 has a special interest in performing dangerous stunts for entertainment. On Monday of this week I caught her threatening to attempt a new stunt–Evil Kenevel style–that literally made my heart stop for a few seconds. In fact, it still races when I think about it…

When we were looking for a house a few years ago, we already knew something of Toddler 1’s fearlessness. Therefore, we made it a priority to find a split stairwell with a landing, and we checked every post in the banister for stability before we moved into this house.

Fast forward to this past Monday. Toddler 1 and I were playing a card game in the upstairs hallway while Toddler 2 was still napping. Normally we don’t hang out in the hall, but because the sun was shining through the window in a way that made that area of the floor bright and toasty, I thought we could handle this exception. Well, we finished the game and I was busy picking up the stray cards when out of nowhere something possessed Toddler 1 to try a fancy feat right in front of my face…

She grabbed hold of the upper portion of the railing, planted both of her feet on a bottom post and began to lift herself up off the ground as if she were going to hoist herself over the banister.

Knowing that she is perfectly capable of completing the hoist, I nearly died. And, I yelled. And, I yelled some more. I lectured and pointed and demanded a “Yes, ma-am” and an “I understand” response at least five times. We promptly went downstairs where we stayed for the rest of the evening, and I eventually calmed down.

Well, later that night when both girls were in bed I told the Spouse about what had happened. He insisted, of course, that I demonstrate exactly what she had done. (Clearly, he didn’t understand how brave and athletic one has to be to do such a stunt). After my failed attempt to lift myself anywhere near off the ground, he settled for my detailed explanation of her maneuver.

He was obviously very troubled by all of this. And, so, we discussed the possible solutions… we could move. We could get a quote on finishing a room over the foyer, thus eliminating the overlook. We could explore the possibility of raising the railing another foot. We could shut off the upstairs and all live on the first floor. We could line the foyer with trampolines and pillows. The problem was, none of these were simple, immediate solutions. But, then, it hit him. We could simply make it impossible for her to get any traction on the railings and the problem would be, at least, temporarily solved. I left him thinking about this while I went downstairs to finish the dishes.

And, that’s when I heard the squeaking and noticed the medicinal smell. I came back upstairs to find him busily slathering each and every post and the entire banister with a 1/4 inch of Vaseline. I’ve never seen the Spouse do a project at home with more speed, confidence or determination.

He followed this with specific instructions:

“Now, when the girls touch this railing tomorrow and ask what’s all over it, you tell them that Daddy put a special paint on there and they are NOT to touch it. OK? It’s a special paint. That’s what you tell them.”

OK, then.

So far, I’ve planted the arm of two of my better sweaters down in the “special paint,” and I’ve had to wash my hands an additional 5-10 times a day to remove “special paint” after I’ve casually brushed my hand across the banister.

But, you know what? Toddler 1 has been so turned off by the slimy feeling of the railing that she has shown no interest in hanging out in the hallway or performing stunts on the “paint-covered” posts. And, should she try, the posts are so incredibly greasy that she could never get the necessary traction to lift her weight. That’s right, Toddler 1. You’ve been outwitted this time. We know you’ll think up some daring alternative soon enough, but we’re a step ahead of you for now.

The “special paint” is not perfect; it’s not permanent; but, it’s temporarily preventative and it’s completely proactive. And, every time I get a whiff of the Vaseline that lines our hall, I’m thankful for the Spouse and the way he loves his girls. At least one of us is a problem-solver.

Meanwhile… we continue the search for a more long-term, less greasy solution. Suggestions, welcome.