Reply #18: When I was a kid we chewed on dog toys. We had good dogs, they didn't mind.

[hunter]

We'd even try to chew on the dogs.

I had a very feral childhood. Frankly my parents are out there somewhere in the autistic spectrum, orbiting normal earth. :hi: mom, dad.

My own kids, well, my wife and I just carried them around everywhere. Otherwise they'd run away. They were little monkeys. Put them in a crib or playpen and they'd climb out. Look away and they'd be gone.

They slept in our bed between us too. There really wasn't any other place we could safely leave them. Hopefully we'd wake up if they tried to climb over.

When my oldest started walking my wife was afraid he'd get outside and freeze to death in the winter. I put those flip locks up high on the door where he couldn't reach them. Sure enough I walk into our living room one day and he's up on a chair unlocking the door. I'd been working in the kitchen and I thought he was sleeping.

My siblings and I survived our childhoods, and so did my kids, who are now in college and becoming very fine adults.

The sticky question is how did I survive as a parent?

I don't know. :shrug: