My baby has started to crawl. Okay, he scoots…but whatever you call it, he’s moving. Gone are the days of putting him down while I do something else. Gone, too, are the days of letting our daughter play with toys anywhere other than in her room…(why do they have to make so many things so very small? and why do little girls love all things little?) The crib is no longer a safe play place as he has learned to pull himself up and then stand staring at me. The fireplace makes me want to hyperventilate every time I look at the bricks…and don’t get me started on the coffee table with its sharp corners and copper feet. It’s won a one-way ticket to the attic for the next nine months or so.
Yes, just like bringing a new baby home changes everything, having that baby learn to move on his own changes everything all over again.
Anything you treasure, you put out of reach. The vacuum works harder than ever thanks to big sister’s tiny toys. And, you hover (or at least I do)…watching, waiting, ready to steady him when he wobbles or scoop him up when he falls. It’s tiring….but it’s oh so fun.
There’s nothing quite like the surprised smile of a child who just realized he could do something new. And nothing sweeter than the purely delighted applause he gives himself then, too. And, when he first crawls all the way across the room just to get to you, it’s obvious one thing hasn’t changed: he may be mobile but he’s still mama’s.