Oh God, She's Mobile
Time has recently become incredibly confusing for me.
In three months, baby girl will celebrate her first birthday. Three months! It seems so soon. On the other hand, that is a full 1/3 of this child's life. That seems like forever to me. For me, that's 10 years. This girl sleeps "well" about one in three nights, so during the time between now and her first birthday, I'll get about one month of decent sleep. Math.
Everyone, literally everyone, has told me to cherish these baby moments because before I know it, she will be all grown up and yelling at me to leave her alone. Thus far I have been...less than successful in the cherishment department, mostly because my daughter has been so dreadfully and insufferably booooring. She's was so lame. Undeniably cute. Smells amazing. But just a boring little drip of a human being.
Until now.
Because now my baby crawls! She crawls like a maniac. She crawls with all the suicidal vengeance of John Wick on pure Willamette Valley meth. Her new interests include: 1) power cords, 2) end of list.
I actually never thought she would learn to crawl. She used to hate being on her stomach, and she mostly just loved standing up and hanging on to the coffee table and yelling at stuff. I thought she'd be one of those weird kids that goes from sitting to walking, but just takes a really long time to do it. Boy was I wrong. Now, oh dear lord, she loves climbing the stairs in my house. She crawls over to my stereo and plays with the treble and bass levels. And most of all, she loves climbing into the kitchen to touch the oven and try to eat the mat beneath the kitchen sink (an easy candidate for most disgusting item in the house to put in one's mouth).
So far though, it's pretty awesome! I have heard more than one dad complain about the fact that when their babies started to crawl, that was the end of the phase where you could set them down and leave the room for a second. This doesn't hold much weight with me, because I have never been able to set my baby down and leave the room. She HATES being alone for any infinitesimal amount of time, and she has thus far never really learned the joys of self guided play. So although I suppose it's a little more stressful now that she is capable of destroying herself about fifteen different ways in any room of our house, at least now she is a little more fun and interesting day-to-day.
And man, it really forces you to vacuum your floors every now and then. This girl can barely hold a slice of apple, much less make much of an effort to get it in her mouth. But a piece of lint or a small rock chip or a tiny feather? She'll spot that shit from 30 feet, tear right over to it and get it in her mouth before I can look up from my computer screen. It's probably her most fine-tuned skill. I swear I watched her try to put a glob of spaghetti sauce and meat in her mouth for 20 minutes this evening and it just ended up behind her ear. But god forbid we ever had a stray piece of dog food laying around the house, it would be consumed before I ever even knew it existed.
Until now.
Because now my baby crawls! She crawls like a maniac. She crawls with all the suicidal vengeance of John Wick on pure Willamette Valley meth. Her new interests include: 1) power cords, 2) end of list.
I actually never thought she would learn to crawl. She used to hate being on her stomach, and she mostly just loved standing up and hanging on to the coffee table and yelling at stuff. I thought she'd be one of those weird kids that goes from sitting to walking, but just takes a really long time to do it. Boy was I wrong. Now, oh dear lord, she loves climbing the stairs in my house. She crawls over to my stereo and plays with the treble and bass levels. And most of all, she loves climbing into the kitchen to touch the oven and try to eat the mat beneath the kitchen sink (an easy candidate for most disgusting item in the house to put in one's mouth).
So far though, it's pretty awesome! I have heard more than one dad complain about the fact that when their babies started to crawl, that was the end of the phase where you could set them down and leave the room for a second. This doesn't hold much weight with me, because I have never been able to set my baby down and leave the room. She HATES being alone for any infinitesimal amount of time, and she has thus far never really learned the joys of self guided play. So although I suppose it's a little more stressful now that she is capable of destroying herself about fifteen different ways in any room of our house, at least now she is a little more fun and interesting day-to-day.
And man, it really forces you to vacuum your floors every now and then. This girl can barely hold a slice of apple, much less make much of an effort to get it in her mouth. But a piece of lint or a small rock chip or a tiny feather? She'll spot that shit from 30 feet, tear right over to it and get it in her mouth before I can look up from my computer screen. It's probably her most fine-tuned skill. I swear I watched her try to put a glob of spaghetti sauce and meat in her mouth for 20 minutes this evening and it just ended up behind her ear. But god forbid we ever had a stray piece of dog food laying around the house, it would be consumed before I ever even knew it existed.
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