While sitting in the doctor’s office this morning a really lovely mother walked over to where I was sitting with the two munchkins and started talking to me. It was crazy. Crazy nice. Crazy awesome. She was just so friendly. Her two little boys were being as pleasant as my two (one of those rare times when Piper was completely content to sit in her car seat and Gideon wanted to read the same book over and over again. Much MUCH different than the night before behavior that primarily involved each of them screaming at all hours so that I would walk directly from one child’s room to the next without ever getting back into my much loved, heavily blanketed bed). We were mostly chatting about our two babies.
Hers was seven months, born just one week before Pipes. She asked about teeth. Piper has two…those shiny little jagged bottom ones right in the front. Her Desmond (you know I wanted to ask if she was a Lost fan but didn’t risk the offense) has none yet, just puddles of drool and anger. I asked about crawling and he isn’t there yet, just rocking back and forth. Piper readily joined the ranks of the mobile a few weeks back and has recently jumped into the ‘cruiser’ field as well (pulls herself up and walks along furniture as long as she can keep one hand firmly on something stable, she can get anywhere). The very nice woman was reveling in her sons lack of mobility and me? I was torn. I love watching my kids hit milestones but the crawling, walking, scaling all things with ledges and slightly available hand holds? I vacillate. I’ll get back to you as soon as she figures out how to sit down after pulling herself up. In the meantime, I’ll be somewhere just behind her waiting for the blood curdling screams for help.
This is trouble.
yessss.