Saturday, February 23, 2008

On the move

Le Petit is all about movement. Never mind the books that explain that baby will sit first, then crawl. Le Petit will have nothing of it. Now that he's got crawling down he will sometimes stop and pull himself up to a half-sitting position, sprawled out on his side, leaning on one arm and holding a toy like a bunch of grapes at a roman feast, but that's the most effort he'll put into it.

Stasis is out. Moving forward is his obsession. He gives us approximately thirty seconds to change his diaper before flipping over and trying to crawl businesslike off the changing table as if to say, Well, it looks like we're done here, I'll just be on my way. Once he's made up his mind to go, it takes all of our efforts at distraction, not to mention a good ounce of physical strength, to keep him in place.

I've discovered that singing "Louie Louie" in a loud, nasally voice will startle him into staying put for a few critical seconds.

Along with the mania for movement, he's developed a memory. We can no longer just move things away and trust him to magically forget their existence. He'll crawl right back to the place where he just saw that alluring pair of shoes and look at me, confused. Drat, it was here just a moment ago!

He's not satisfied staying put, even in my arms. His eye catches something fascinating across the room, like a plastic bottle of water or a hanging apron, and he twists and reaches for it with short, indignant cries. Driver? Pull over there, now, please. Driver! I said over there!

Thus ends our previously tranquil existence. And the more he's pushing forward, oh how I want nothing more than to just sit still awhile myself.

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