This past weekend offered a scary, scary glimpse into the near future. I swear, last Friday, when Theo was on his belly, he would only put his hands out and extend his arms, pushing his shoulders and some of his chest up off the floor.
Saturday afternoon, he was pushing his entire chest up off the floor.
Saturday night, he had his chest completely off the ground and his butt up in the air.
Sunday afternoon, he had his chest off the ground, butt up in the air, and was rocking back and forth! Are babies supposed to go from barely doing a girl push-up to practically crawling in 24 hours!? It was unbelievable and so exciting (yet frightening) to watch.
But like I said, it's a glimpse into the very near, very terrifying future! He will be roaming free. It wasn't until recently that I noticed just how many things we have down low. Books. CDs. DVDs. Video game consoles. Photo albums. Glass cabinet doors. Electrical cords. Speaker wires. And that's just the living room. Oh deary.
On one hand, I know that we can't put away EVERYTHING that he shouldn't be playing with - that will never teach him that some things are "hands off." At the same time, doesn't this mean that I'm NEVER going to be able to take my eyes off of him? Sure, I knew it would happen eventually but now that I've seen his little butt rocking back and forth as if he's revving up his engine, I can only imagine that he's already laid out his path of destruction. Something tells me that he's not going to be so content in the jumparoo once he truly is mobile.
My little baby is growing up and moving on. He's 8 months + 1 day today and I guess he knew that it was time to work towards the crawling milestone. I don't even want to think about walking - oh, walking. That's verrry scary!
Oh, this was something else super exciting that happened in the weeeeeeee weeeeeeee hours Sunday morning (when Theo decided to celebrate the end of Daylight Savings Time). His dada got up to use the bathroom and Theo was watching him intently. I said jokingly "say Dad! Don't leave!" Without breaking his gaze towards his dad, I SWEAR Theo said "Dad." His voice had that raspy just-woke-up-and-I-need-to-clear-my-throat gravel in it. I was pretty certain my ears were playing tricks on me so I said "Say Dad" again and he said it, plain as day "Dad." Of course, when dada came back from the bathroom, I told him about it and he didn't for a second believe me. Naturally, the only thing Theo would say was "gah," which OKAY, could be easily confused for "dad" but I know my boy. We had a moment. I gave a clear instruction and he responded obediently. I'm sure it's just the first of many of these mother-son moments. Oh yeah, and he totally said "dad!" I guess that was kind of a big deal, too! :)