the octagon playpen

Ever since Parker has acquired increasing mobility, we have had some minor issues with him getting into things if left unattended (mostly due to my lack of baby proofing). As mentioned in a previous post (http://poopandotherthingsmomsareobsessedwith.blogspot.com/2011/12/omg-what-do-you-have-in-your-mouth.html), I asked my dad for an octagon playpen for Christmas.

I thought this was a great idea for a gift. Thought.

When I was looking at these things online I was wooed by their seemingly magical baby/mommy pleasing qualities. The ads show a surplus of toddlers playing in these huge octagons with all their favorite toys, while mom blissfully is off in the corner doing her nails or some other "me time" task.

I don't paint my nails, but I do enjoy taking 5 minutes here and there to stuff my face.

When the box for the playpen came I was super excited to set it up. The day after Christmas Tim and I opened the box and stood it upright.

Huh. I guess I can't count. It's not an octagon. It is, in fact, a hexagon. It's a hexagon that will barely fit my almost failure to thrive 8 month old. There is no way in hell 2 or more toddlers will play in that thing together, unless the manufacturer's idea of toddler play is MMA cage style.

Despite my disappointment, I decide that Parker might not mind playing in it (albeit with exactly one large toy). So I mask my disappointment, clap my hands, and put Parker in it. This is the response I get: