My daughter Ell-Bell started walking a few weeks before her first birthday. And she was pretty timid about it at the beginning, as I’m guessing most babies are. But once she got the hang of it, man did she ever. A little after she turned one, she became a speed demon. Awkwardly stumble-sprinting from here to there like some sort of crazed maniac. Girlfriend needs to slow down.
I used to be able to get things done. Granted, it was only in 5-minute increments, but it was still something! I’d sit Ell-Bell down in the family room, throw some toys at her, and then sprint around the house, changing the laundry, loading the dishwasher, having a quick pee. Now, I can’t sit her down for 5 seconds before she’s pushed herself to her feet and is toddling away at an alarming speed.
So these days, if Hubby’s not home, I’m cooking dinner 30-seconds at a time, pausing constantly to retrieve the baby from the bathroom, the stairs, or the kitchen step-ladder. Because those three places — which are the only non-baby-proofed parts of our house — happen to be Ell-Bell’s three favorite places to be. Is there anything more relaxing than cooking dinner at the end of a long day, frantically racing back and forth between your burning, oil-spitting stir fry and your babbling, toilet-obsessed toddler who unfortunately knows how to lift the toilet lid? Little turd.
And much to my tv-loving dismay, Ell-Bell won’t even sit still for the boob tube. Which I guess is a good thing from a brain-melting perspective, but man, I would love to be able to sweep the floor for a few minutes without my one-year-old trying to help. She’s actually not very helpful.
The worst part is, as fast as Ell-Bell can go, she’s still pretty terrible at walking. And she thinks she can run, but she really can’t. Which means her sweet little forehead and our wooden floors are way too well acquainted. Girlfriend falls down. A lot. Her skin is littered with bruises. Poor thing.
On the bright side, Ell-Bell is the cutest thing ever when she walks. Like, strangers stop and stare, giggling as she moves her little bowling-ball-shaped frame across a room. She’s definitely got this toddling, wide-eyed, confused, chubby-cheeked vibe going on. Work it, girlfriend.
Until next time,
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