Then she hit a milestone. She learned to rollover.

While I was thrilled, it meant if I left her unattended on the bed for even a millisecond, I was putting her at risk. One quick turn for a bottle or burp rag, and she could be on the floor.

So, she learned a new skill, and I learned to be more vigilant.

Recently, at the age of 4, my daughter hit another milestone. She discovered how to use the remote control.

Funny. I didn't see "operates household electronics" on the list of developmental milestones we got at our last well-child checkup.

For years now, I've mindlessly turned on the TV, punched in the Disney Channel or Noggin, and gone about my business.

I didn't worry that my precious little cherub could go from Mickey Mouse to MTV with the click of a single button. Why would I, when the only use she had for the remote control was gleefully banging it on the coffee table?

But now, if I make the mistake of leaving her alone for just a few minutes with a TV and a remote control, my innocent little baby girl would be left with a head full of images and sounds that no child was ever meant to see or hear: explicit sex, a smorgasbord of sexual deviations, nudity, profanity, unimaginable violence, brutalized bodies, medical autopsies, decomposing corpses, demons, and voyeuristic reality programs where people abuse and humiliate one another for the sake of entertainment. And that's just basic cable.

I suppose it would be easier if TVs, like automobiles, came equipped with some kind of a seat belt or harness that could protect kids from images that cut deeply into their psyches and wound them in ways we may never completely understand.

I mean, I can deal with a scrape when she falls off her bike. But I'm pretty sure there's no Band-Aid for her mind.

The most effective safety measure they've developed so far is parental controls. But I've discovered that the creators of some of these shows have some pretty sneaky ways of slipping their smut in through the cracks, most often by not providing ratings. And even if these controls did effectively filter all the sleaze, there are still the commercials.

Heck, it hasn't been that long since my daughter was having nightmares about the "Sully" character from Monsters, Inc. I can only imagine what a commercial for The Ring would do.

So, it appears my husband and I have a choice to make: never let her watch TV unattended (not exactly a practical alternative), or have the cable disconnected.

Maybe it's time for another milestone in our family—I think I'll call the cable company.