The first words a doctor used to describe Jack when he was just about 3 seconds old was “he’s such a little wiggler.”
That is still true today, although now he’s also a roller and a grabber of pretty much everything, but specifically remote controls and cell phones. Usually while someone is using them.
Anyway. About 3 weeks ago, before Jack had really gotten the hang of the whole rolling thing, we could still plunk him down in the middle of the bed and turn our backs to say, I don’t know, open a drawer, turn on the air conditioner. Now? Not so much, as evidenced by Friday night’s recent tumble off of our bed. There was about 5 seconds of silence and then a blood curdling scream… Needless to say baby proofing has been stepped up a notch around here.
Poor Jack! If it makes him feel any better, Helen took a header off the bed yesterday and she cried, too. If it makes you feel any better, I spent the next few hours convincing myself she was bleeding internally or suffering from a severe concussion. I think she’s still laughing at me.
Ahhh. The Rolling Off the Bed Incident.
We’ve all been there once or four times.
Henry has a big, fat lip. Actually, a double fat lip. He tripped TWICE over the same cursed Talking Puppy. More reason for me to throw that thing out the window. Seriously.
For us, babyproofing basically meant throwing out all our crap. No one was happier to downsize our junk than I. Always use the baby as the excuse, by the way. Works every. single. time!