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Contamination contained. We set up a perimeter. No babies will be escaping from this facility. Now our evil plans can begin mwahahahahahahahaaaaaaaa!
Since rolling has quickly turned into scooting in circles and the occasional attempt to push up on his knees we decided it was time to get started on the baby-proofing. Of course, just like EVERYTHING ELSE about parenthood, you can only be prepared for half of it. The things you thought you absolutely had to have (ahem BUMBO SEAT) were totally unnecessary and you end up running through the street at 11:00 pm throwing money at anyone who promises to get you the stuff you neeeeeeeed.
The real victims of the baby proofing are our pets. The stupid evil cat can’t figure out how to get through the gate (hint: YOU JUST WALK THROUGH IT YOU’RE A CAT). The dog can no longer run to the front door and greet every single visitor we have OMG TRAGIC. And the stupid nice cat has already decided she’d prefer if I opened it FOR her so she sits and meows. Odds are we’re going to have at least one poop on the floor incident before we reach acceptance. Although since the gate is between the couch and the bathroom, I wouldn’t rule E out of that race. Kidding honey!
Today at my HUGE FAILURE of a yard sale (chance of sprinkles MY ASS BOB, it poured all morning – well, not all morning, just the part of the morning after I had already set up everything in the driveway) our very nice friends stopped by to keep us company and let their three year old run in circles around our dog. It was a win-win situation really, they both burned off enough energy for a nice nap – although in the end I think it was more of a win for us, as the dog is still exhausted and their daughter is probably already in running in circles again. Let me tell you just how much I’m looking forward to THOSE years.
Anyways, while they were here I put the baby down on the carpet and said “Watch, he can roll over now!” And Baby Evan smiled and laughed and lay there like a lump. “No really!” I said “He rolls all the time!” And Baby Evan didn’t move. Then Joe Wilson jumped out from behind my bushes and yelled “You lie!” Fox News plans to air the footage at 7:00. Ok ok, not really. But no matter how much I encouraged him, Baby Evan refused to roll and I looked like a delusional person insisting over and over that I DID see a magical rainbow unicorn I DID. Either this kid already has a really twisted sense of humor or the presence of people other than me and his father makes his brain shut down. That bodes really well for his education.
Now it’s 6:30 and our company is long gone and I’m sitting here typing this with one hand because the other one is CLAMPED AROUND THE BABY’S LEG to keep him from throwing himself off the couch. And just to prove I’m not delusional, here’s the proof:
I don’t think Baby Evan is ever going to crawl. I am only slightly upset about this development, as it means I can delay my baby proofing a little while longer. Unfortunately, that means when I do baby proof I’ll have to go right to the locking-up-everything stage instead of the empty-the-bottom-shelf stage, complete with baby gates, toilet locks (?), anti-door-slamming devices (???) and padded faucets in the tub (???????)
Baby Evan has always hated tummy time and now that he can roll front-to-back without any effort he won’t stay face down for more than a couple seconds. He can sit with very little help and stand almost on his own. He looooves the standing, looooooooooves it lovelovelovelovelove and would stand all day if his mean evil mommy didn’t complain about her arms hurting and make him lie back down WAH WAH WAH WAH WAAAAAAH. But because he refuses to spend any time on this tummy he hasn’t progressed to straight-armed push ups and could care less about trying to get up on his knees.
I’ve done the required Google search for “OMG what if my baby never crawls?!?” and “is not crawling a sign of autism/ADD/childhood cancer/douchbagism?” and everything is very reassuring. Lots of babies skip certain milestones in favor of other ones. He’s been right on track with smiling, laughing, motor skills and growth. I have no real reasons to worry – so I won’t. Or I’ll try not to. So what if all the other 5 months old at mom’s group are practicing their downward dogs and rolling front to back? My kid is well on his way to being the youngest person ever to run a marathon.
Happy Birthday Baby! How can it only have been four months since this adorable little boy came into my life?
I feel like he’s been mine forever. Baby Evan has such a huge personality, full of laughs and smiles for friends and strangers. He loves tickles and raspberries and being tossed lifted over your head. He’s quite a daredevil already and I am counting the days until he starts leaping off the furniture. He can sit up in your lap or propped up on the couch.
He loves animals more than anything and is already learning to pet the doggie and the kitty “nicely”. He can make lots of baby sounds, including all of the vowels, m, w, b, and h, and has started screeching and cackling when he laughs. He sleeps through the night and takes two long and two or three short naps a day, so I get lots of time for chores, cooking, the internet, or naps of my own. He has started to listen when you read to him, looking at the pages and trying to grab the book. I am so looking forward to every moment of watching him grow from a tiny little Gollum-lump to an independent, happy, loving boy. Happy birthday my darling baby. Baby? Hey, baby over here!
It was one year ago this past weekend while we were visiting the same relatives up in Massachusetts that I turned to my husband and said these loving words: “I feel like crap and I’m like 85% sure I’m pregnant so you better start being nicer to me.” Since then, I’ve thought about babies at least once an hour (8,760 times), said the word boobs on average once a day (365 times), and worried about something baby-related every minute (525,6oo times – ha, I didn’t even use a calculator for that one).
I’d say besides suffering from a severe case of baby-obsession, my life is not as different as I would have thought. Just fuller and a little smellier. I’m also less lazy, more patient, less judgemental, more empathetic and generally healthier if a little fatter. So I think that, yes, I DO recommend this baby thing. Now excuse me, my baby is crying again and has pooped through his pants, the dog just chewed up a tiny pair of socks, I haven’t eaten anything besides a handful of trailmix in 20 hours, my nipples are still burning and I smell like spoiled milk.