Catch 22

This morning was another early one. Alex did not sleep very well in the wee hours this morning. And he was up and hungry at 5am. Travis was supposed to be on his way out the door at 5:15 this morning, but luckily for me, his start time today got pushed back a bit. So Trav fed the beast. And wouldn't you know it. This morning, the one morning that Travis doesn't have to leave so ungodly early and I can go back to sleep...he chugs the contents of that bottle in 13 minutes flat. And then Trav's co-worker calls and asks him to meet at the warehouse. 13 minutes. That's how much extra sleep I got. Very generous don't you think? I shouldn't complain since Travis was up before me and he didn't even get an extra 13 minutes. But I am tired. And I want to whine.

I was so hoping that baby would be tired from not sleeping very well and then having a full stomach. But, to quote a grumpy old man, "You can wish in one hand and crap in the other. See which fills up first." I did not get my wish. The boy was awake and ready to play. So play we did.

He was sitting up for a while, whipping toys all over the floor in his room. While reaching for one of those toys, he ended up on his stomach. With the toy just out of his reach. Holy man did those fat little legs start kicking. He was grunting and pulling on the rug with his hands. And for about 1.56 seconds, he got his hips up off the floor. You could see the wheels turning in his mind. Trying to figure out how to get himself just that little bit forward on the floor. People, he is trying to figure out how to crawl. Developmental milestone here we come.

But here's the deal...

I have a fear. That fear is this child being mobile. That fear is also seemingly within an amoeba's flange of becoming a reality. Do you think my couch will miss me as much as I will miss it, when I am running around chasing the child that is NEVER still?