Getting Into Trouble
The Boy and I enjoy movies. We have invested time and energy into making our entertainment setup as movie-watching-friendly as possible. We have not, however, invested much time and energy into protecting this setup from little hands. (See, most people would think of protecting the baby from it, but for us, it’s the other way around. I’m not really worried that Petals is going to damage herself as much as I’m worried that she’s going to decide to use the XBox’s disc tray as a chew toy.)
Up until now, our baby has been an unmoving lump. A cute lump, but unmoving nonetheless. (Just the other day, while trying to entice her with a toy, my mother asked her if her only defense was laying there “like a slug”, like Randy from A Christmas Story.) She would lay in the middle of the floor and pretty much stay put if you left her alone for any length of time. Then she began rolling over. I was excited at first, but now I see the error of my ways. Now, I’ve got younger siblings. I think that I knew it was coming, but I wasn’t really aware of it’s coming…but did you know that… ***looks around to see if anyone’s listening*** babies eventually start…moving?!
Moving I tell you!
Petals is doing more than scooching. She’s moving. Purposefully. Towards a goal. Well..actually, she generally pushes herself away from a goal and then turns around to find something cool behind her and starts playing with it. But I’m sure that this trend will, like my baby, reverse itself any day now.
Yesterday, I moved her away from the blinking lights and pushy buttons housed beneath the television twice. No sooner had I turned my back to begin putting away our bags (book bag, diaper bag, laptop bag, breast pump bag, milk bottle bag, CVS plastic bag full of migraine medication…) than I heard our baby grunting her way across the floor. (She’s no ninja-baby yet. She’s still very loud when she approacheth.) I look back to discover tiny finger prints in the dust that had accumulated on top of the blu-ray player. The maker of those tiny finger prints was kicking her feet, trying desperately to reach the bright light on top of the wireless router.
Yes. Five months old, and already getting into trouble.
That’s my girl!