I may be preaching to the choir here, as many of you reading this blog are parents… but I still find that I need to say that it is a whole new ballgame when your baby learns to crawl. It is a new, exciting world for Milo, and a scarier one for me! Over the course of one weekend, my little baby boy has gone from scooting around slowly, and mostly backwards, to full-out crawling. And even though he still looks somewhat Frankenstein-ish with his jerky, straight arms and uncoordinated movements, Milo is FAST!
I put him down on one side of the room, he is on the other. I place him in front of a nice basket full of safe, entertaining toys, and he is pulling up on the recycling bin, throwing trash onto the kitchen floor. I slide him next to me on the living room rug, and he is nearly behind the chair on the opposite side of the room, digging for electrical wires to chew on. I give him a book to chew on while I pour myself a glass of water, he finds a tiny gap between the kitchen floor and the baseboards to stick his finger into. Oh, and today he actually found a paint chip, picked it up, and held it out to me. So THAT’S how those kids ate lead paint chips. I always wondered, and now I know.
I know the novelty of my little baby boy crawling will wear off soon, but today was so exciting and fun! Milo took two great naps as I marveled at how great it is when your baby sleeps more than 30-minute naps and actually wakes up in a great mood! He was so happy and giggly all day. I think he was so frustrated at not being able to explore, that given the newfound freedom made him into the chipper young man he was meant to be.
One of the delightful things Milo discovered today: dog food. I decided that under my supervision, I would allow some exploration.
And lucky for you, I got some of the mischief on film:
Yes, he is so thoughtful. Already sharing:
Though Milo decided against putting any whole pieces in his mouth,
he did put his hand, covered in dog food dust, into his mouth. As many of you know, Milo has a gag reflex that would make any self-respecting bulimic green with envy. Look, Mom, no hands! Sorry, I know that’s not funny.
The infamous “face,” most frequently reserved for the high chair:
This face also preceded today’s vomit session after my attempt at feeding Milo the exact same flavor of yogurt that he scarfed down yesterday. Milo’s motto: Don’t want it? Throw it up.