Finding Our Feet
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Holy moly. Having a life can be a real time-suck.
We’re (still) sleep training Fox (me, in the middle of the night: “Pipe down or I’m going to put you in a drawer, son”) and I’ve been working nights and weekends editing a giant book (I get paid to read literary fiction; I am living the dreeeeeam!) and Simon had a birthday (brownies!) and we’re planning two parties for the beginning of next month (on the same day because we’re nutso) and Simon’s band is practicing for two upcoming gigs (band widow) and I took both boys for vaccinations at the same time (eeeeeeeeee) and I have rediscovered headbands and non-maternity pants and we’re putting out fires, big and little, left and right, and all of this is fine and good but what I really want to do is just sit in front of the fire and read Cloud Atlas (with brownies) but because that’s not compatible with mothering an infant who is TRYING TO CRAWL (staaaaahp), I instead break up the day by making too-frequent trips to locations that pay into my bottomless need to own many giant woven storage bins, ceramic and glass vases, and fake flowers (I know) to fill those vases.
It’s a wonderful mad, mad, mad, mad life.
I have about a million posts in draft about Important Things, but am choosing to do Important Things in real-time instead (e.g., I am exercising instead of writing a post about my experience doing Biggest Blogging Loser), so if you want to read about Important Things, allow me to direct you to my latest Work It, Mom post, about how guilt gives me permission to be a bad mother. It’s a good one (IMO).
If you are, however, interested in Not Necessarily Important But Cuuuuuuute Things, allow me to direct you below, where my six-month-old shows you that he’s found his feet, in more ways than one.
Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!
LEAH!!! HOW IT THAT POSSIBLE? How can that wee 6 month old baby be standing? Please tell me he did not get up there on his own. I am going to have to strap Elise into her Bumbo forever if you tell me he pulled up by himself.
I am going to go count my blessings that Elise is not yet crawling. Just sitting and reaching.
No, he definitely didn’t get up there on his own (I’m standing behind him, just out of frame, waiting for him to fall), BUT STILL. I was so excited for Wombat to start moving when he was small, but for this one I just want it all to slooooooow doooooown!
I had one of those six-month-olds too. Good luck with that.
But the b&w photo, with the socks, so adorable! And he’s looking like Simon.
You think he looks like Simon? All I see is me me me, which is weird and awesome and WEIRD. Those are definitely Simon’s eyebrows, though, no question there.
That last photo is the best. His face looks all, “Uh, now what?”
Let’s hope for your sake he doesn’t figure that one out for awhile yet.
Seriously. “Now what do I do, Mom?” “Nothing. You just stand there and don’t move until I say you can, which will be when you’re twenty-six.”
Whoa standing. Becca’s not far behind, but I so can’t believe it already. She’s rolling back and forth though and keeps bumping into things because I don’t realize how far she can go.
See, I thought I’d dodge the early moving because Fox still doesn’t roll from tummy to back. He goes back to tummy easily now (finally), but from there he has to just drag and scoot if he wants to get anywhere, and that’s way slower than a baby who can roll. Rollers scare me; don’t look away or they’re stuck under a chair, right?
That photo of him KILLS ME. He is such a mini you, too.
I swear I die a thousand deaths every day. Sorry, folks, I got the cutest one.
For real?! Oh my gosh Fox is standing up. Not sure if you want to celebrate or run a hot bath
And Happy Birthday Simon
It’s too sooooooon! He was just boooooorn! Will you sign my petition to make him stay a baby for a little while longer?
Wowzers! My 8-month-old wants nothing to do with standing! He just rolls and rolls and rolls… He hasn’t managed to get stuck under a chair yet, but he has hit his head on the legs of the coffee table more than once. But his favorite rolling targets are the cats (or dog, depending on which pet happens to be closest) so he can grab them and then eat the huge handfuls of pet fur he pulled out in the nanosecond I happened to look away. The funny thing is that the pets don’t really seem to mind!
I will sign your petition to keep Fox a baby, then go create my own “Sloooooow Doooown Baby” petition for my own child.
Six months… Standing…. Eeep.