I guess it’s fair to finally admit something that I’ve been thinking for a while now. My kid scares the crap out of me. I should also admit that this only happened recently…like a few weeks ago when he started trying to crawl…and now…now that we are crawling all over the house he finds ways to scare me. Side note: He is crawling but not up completely on hands and knees with his belly off the floor- he’s a big boy…you try getting those little chubby, muscle-less arms and legs to carry that big body. We’ve just got a priceless floor cleaner. Anyway, this past weekend Wyatt was happily playing in his room when I decided to let him be and go wash dishes. Not 5 minutes, seriously if that, I turn to go back to his room and when I make it to the hall I scream and my heart drops to the floor. You would think I would say something horrific had happened to my sweet baby, but instead there he was in all his glory smiling up at me, proud of his accomplishment of crawling out of his room and down the hall to find his mommy. It was the weirdest thing seeing him there knowing I had left him somewhere else. I know he’s crawling and never where we leave him anymore, but to pop up in the hallway where it’s dark and I completely didn’t expect it made my heart hurt.
Another thing that seriously scares me is this pulling up business. I no longer have a baby people. I have a little human that resembles his father and shows absolutely no fear. This is not cool. I don’t think I can handle it…can someone please slow down time a little?
For my record, memory, baby book that is this blog: Wyatt is a crawler at 7.5 months.
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