This morning, during the ten minutes it took me to eat my Lucky Charms, I watched Palmer do the following in our kitchen: talk to his reflection in the stove door, pull the dish towel down off of the refrigerator handle, pick hairs off our broom and rub them in between his fingers, roll up the kitchen mat, pull on and wildly swing our sliding door blinds, tip over the garbage can, yank on the kitchen phone cord, and eat a couple cheerios off the floor leftover from his morning breakfast.
I have come to realize a few facts about crawling babies these past weeks.
- Babies are born with an innate attraction to the most fragile, expensive and dangerous household items (and in these frequent cases, redirection does not work).
- It is not possible to truly baby proof your house.
- I indubitably need to keep a cleaner home. (This morning after an excursion down our hallway Palmer returned with a dust bunny right a top his head.)
- Everything is a new adventure to explore, and is much more exciting than manufactured baby toys.
- I honestly do not have the energy to keep up with him. Most of the time when Palmer gets into stuff he should not, I usually just sit there and watch him. Unless it is a danger to him, I figure, what's the point? He'll find it again in a couple hours or the next day.