Bear Crawls and BitingCasey Mullins
Cody has been sitting on the floor lately watching Vivi’s every last move.
I hear reports either later on or as it’s happening if I’m in the same room.
“SHE’S ON HER TOES! SHE’S MOVING! In football we call that a bear crawl!”
He’s insistant that the little white patches on her gums are teeth coming through and all the while I’m sitting off to the side with my fingers in my ears shouting “LA LA LA I CAN’T HEAR YOU MY BABY WILL BE MY BABY FOREVER.”
If I were a betting woman I’d make some money on her chompers and crawling skills coming to fruition soon. But I’m not a betting woman, I am a mother in denial.
How did this all happen so fast and why don’t I remember it going so fast with Addie?
I easily have the least child friendly fireplace on the planet and my head spins with visions of a tiny little head careening into it no matter how many foam bumpers and pillows we stack around it. The crawling isn’t a huge deal, I know she’ll enjoy it and she’ll only become more fun to play with even though she’ll become an even more giant hazard.
I’ve considered borrowing a friend’s 10 month old for a day to see just how much trouble she gets into, to double check the spots I *thought* were safe.
The teeth on the other hand, Addie didn’t get her first teeth until she was 11 months old. But that also meant that she was teething for what felt like forever. I love this little gummy smile of hers and soon it’s going to be invaded with dangerous biting teeth. She’s already big enough to be a one year old, she doesn’t need a mouthful of teeth to go with her already misleading size.
How long from bear crawl to crawl in your house? And how long from white bumps to white teeth in your baby’s mouth?
If you lie to me and say sixteen years? I’ll love you forever.