Right now, it’s kind of a forward-seated propellation, unless she flips onto her tummy, in which case it's a backwards worm crawl ‘til she bumps into something.
Either way, I am woefully unprepared for 8-month old Dove’s impending mobility.
I was also woefully unprepared for Dove’s foray into food that did not come from my boobage, as well as her foray into clothes that her sister did not fit until she was 18 months, and her foray into the joys of eating carpet fluff and anything else she can get her pudgy little hands on.
However, all of those things are easily remedied – a quick batch of sweet potato puree; a dig into the bins of clothes that it seems I just took out of Bee’s drawers; a deft swish of a finger to clear Dove’s mouth of delicious lint. Dealing with each of those rites of babyhood passage come back swiftly from the annals of motherhood memory when I needed them too, and carry a pretty short (re)learning curve anyway.
But crawling? What the hell am I supposed to do about that one again?
Not only am I feeling daunted by the reality of no longer turning around and seeing my child sitting where I just put her, but this means I have to babyproof the house again, doesn’t it? And (worse), keep it pretty dang clean. Cleaner than I’d like to put in the time for. I mean, at 3, Bee is definitely more likely to make a mess on the floor than to eat one, so I don’t worry much about her, but you know, nothing says good parenting like finding your 8-month old sitting in the corner eating cat hair.
And babyproofing? With Bee, we put in little more babyproofing effort than a gate at the stairs and outlet covers. When the ratio was always at least one parent:one baby, there was little chance of Bee making a move without being under a watchful eye and ready hand, and besides, she was never very interested in opening contraband-concealing cupboards or climbing up bookcases.
Dove, however, is a different story. Not only am I absolutely sure that she will be more of a monkey than her older sister was (only partially because her M.O. is clearly to keep up with her older sister), but the ratio of parent:child is now slightly more skewed in favour of the children (recent husband lay-offs notwithstanding), and I can barely keep track of where my coffee is, let alone what the kids are doing.
So, this weekend we had better put up the gates, take down the tchochkes, and sweep the floor – there’s no stopping her now, and as we make accommodations for a baby on the go, I guess I had also ready my heart for the pace at which Dove is leaving infancy behind.