I put Junior of the floor to sit down. He was quietly playing on the floor until I stood up and walked away. My little 8-month old money vacuum (kid), then pushed up on his arms and knees, and put one hand in front of the other. He moved three whole feet in my direction. He is on the move.
And my sanity is now gone.
In the months before, I could just sit him down and he would roll over a couple of times. But now he moves with a purpose. A purpose to get his hands on anything and everything. So far, he’s crawled toward outlets, power strips, end tables, etc. They might as well be labeled “Death Traps” now that I have a crawling infant. I used to laugh at people who build forts for their babies. Now… I know.
In a matter of seconds, he managed to find spare coins, Dad’s blouse hooks for his military uniform, scraps of paper, lint (I swear my house doesn’t seem this dirty… ok, maybe a little). Of course, I freaked out, yelled, and snatched the items away from him. This ended up scaring him more because mommy turned into a screaming spider monkey.
Don’t get me started on the baby jail (pack-and-play). He picked up quickly that it’s a place of incarceration. I wish I could throw treats in there and crate train him like the dog.
…Actually, I tried. I tried rewarding him with toys, some cheerios, a bottle, but he quickly figured out that he wanted his freedom more. Very Shawshank Redemption-inspired. I’m raising a genius.
At this rate, I’m debating installing a giant pole in the middle of the living room and tethering him to it. Inhumane?
Maybe, I can wrap everything in bubble wrap?
I can’t handle this. He’s growing up too fast.