CeCe is on the move. Almost.
Her attempts at crawling seem to be at a standstill. While it may sound odd, I am fine with this delay. The longer she waits to crawl, the longer I get to put off installing baby gates, cabinet locks and electric socket plugs. As long as she stays immobile we can keep our house as the baby-death trap it is.
Watching a baby teach themselves new skills is a treat. When Cece tries to crawl, it goes something like this:
We begin with her on her back, kicking her feet like a wild stallion and doing something that resembles a half-backbend. When she finally flips onto her stomach, she rests for a moment because that kicking is exhausting to just watch, let alone do.
When Ce gets her second wind, she puts her hands flat on the ground and pushes up on her toes into what I believe is called downward facing dog. It takes a few minutes of this baby yoga for CeCe to realize her error, so she eventually works her way back to an all-fours position.
After rocking back and forth a few times, revving her engine, CeCe will either collapse in defeat and wail face-down into the carpet, or do some break dancing move that swings her legs under her rotund little body and end up in a sitting position.
We go through this dance at least 47 times each day, but this routine has become the norm as of the last two weeks. I continue to be her cheerleading, but my "Rah! Rah!"'s are not entirely sincere. I'm content that my baby is a big blob of cuteness who needs to be carried everywhere.
I've already set up the play yard (a.k.a the baby cage) in the living room in anticipation of that mobility milestone. Because once she figures out that complex alternating-hand-knee combo, my peace of mind in done for.
** Also folks, my new column ran in the July issue of Lexington Family Magazine. Check it out! I'll be writing monthly motherly rants, so if you have a topic that you are dying to scream about, let me know.