This month, Dane learned how to crawl. And then to pull up. And then cruise. And then I had another margarita because WASN’T HE JUST BORN, PEOPLE?
Anyway. Lessons from the early rumble with mobility:
1. The universal truth every mommy learns from crawling is: my floor is disgusting. DISGUSTING. If we were playing Family Feud, this would be the first answer on the board and worth 98.97 points or something ridiculous (and I would be wearing checked gingham, but only because I inexplicably confuse Family Feud with that show about the hillbillies moving to L.A.). Still. DISGUSTING.
1a. Also, what happened to Family Feud? I really kind of liked that show. And glass Coke bottles, too, and Garbage Pail Kids and Circle K. Where did those go?
2. Karma hates me, this time because the more I try to break any of Dane’s falls, the more likely he will fall harder, faster and in some more dangerous configuration, thus hurting himself worse than if I’d only let well enough alone.
3. There is no hiding our plastic hangers. No matter where those bad boys go, he can find them.
4. Of the 1,001 toys in the playroom, the most interesting things to play with are (in order): the floor grate, the only outlet I have anything plugged into and the armoire that I have not yet had time to strap to the wall. Now if only I could find a glass Coke bottle and a plastic hanger.
5. Baby safety paraphernalia manufacturers: Stop lying. None of this stuff is easy to install. Here’s what you should put in your instruction manual:
Step 1: Retrieve husband. If husband unavailable, procure handyman.
Step 2: Have margarita.
See? Easy. And I’m an engineer, too.
On the bright side, check out the balance (and also brightsided, check out how I got to twist up a Notorious BIG song for my title) (but that’s not the point, really) (but still):
|Mommy, I don’t think this is a sanctioned use of the stacker.|
Alright, it’s just a cute gratuitous baby pic. Smooch.