It seems only fitting that with the birth of our country's independence (take that, England!), our little Bear would also develop his own sense of independence. Which means, essentially, that Brian's and my lives are over.
Because now he can move.
Argh.
Rowans' Vegas Vacation entries will return once we are done baby-proofing the house and I (ahem), Rowan, is able to finish transcribing his journal entries. In the meantime, though, Brian and I are frantically plugging outlets, covering live wires, and gluing foam to every hard surface in our house. Scotty's mobility is coming at a shockingly fast pace; prior to Rowan's arrival, the kid didn't even sckootch. Now, he is a one-bear crawling, climbing, pulling-up machine. Nothing is safe. My life has turned into one long scene from a horror movie where I can't move fast enough to remove the [insert dangerous household object here] as the little baby crawls towards me, grinning like a fool. I can't leave the kid alone anymore -- no more checking my email, Facebook, other mommy blogs while the little bear claps his blocks happily together. No, because when I do this (as it has now happened three times this week), he is either 1.) face-planting on the TV stand, 2.) eating the rubber tip off of the door stopper and/or 3.) attempting to scale the kitchen table, which again, resulted in a major face plant.
Please don't call CPS on me. I swear I'm not beating my child. He just keeps...falling. A lot. On his face.
Eek. And this is only the beginning. But at least we finally got some gates up, some foam padding on the TV stand, and will be working on the cabinet doors tomorrow. Happy Independence Day, indeed.
(and big Happy Birthday wishes to little Teo, who is celebrating his one year birthday today! Congrats, Teo, and way to survive the first year, Amie and Lucas. You guys make it look easy.)
Because now he can move.
Argh.
Rowans' Vegas Vacation entries will return once we are done baby-proofing the house and I (ahem), Rowan, is able to finish transcribing his journal entries. In the meantime, though, Brian and I are frantically plugging outlets, covering live wires, and gluing foam to every hard surface in our house. Scotty's mobility is coming at a shockingly fast pace; prior to Rowan's arrival, the kid didn't even sckootch. Now, he is a one-bear crawling, climbing, pulling-up machine. Nothing is safe. My life has turned into one long scene from a horror movie where I can't move fast enough to remove the [insert dangerous household object here] as the little baby crawls towards me, grinning like a fool. I can't leave the kid alone anymore -- no more checking my email, Facebook, other mommy blogs while the little bear claps his blocks happily together. No, because when I do this (as it has now happened three times this week), he is either 1.) face-planting on the TV stand, 2.) eating the rubber tip off of the door stopper and/or 3.) attempting to scale the kitchen table, which again, resulted in a major face plant.
Please don't call CPS on me. I swear I'm not beating my child. He just keeps...falling. A lot. On his face.
Eek. And this is only the beginning. But at least we finally got some gates up, some foam padding on the TV stand, and will be working on the cabinet doors tomorrow. Happy Independence Day, indeed.
(and big Happy Birthday wishes to little Teo, who is celebrating his one year birthday today! Congrats, Teo, and way to survive the first year, Amie and Lucas. You guys make it look easy.)
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