I feel like I missed the boat on announcing Elijah’s first crawl. Technically he’s crawling. If you can call crawling dragging yourself along the floor like the final scene of “Terminator.” But, like his second tooth (who I will name “Harold”) it was gradual and I can’t point to a date on the calendar.
But now I am waging war with Eli. The ultimate prize? Cords. Electrical cords. The kid loves them. I can completely understand. They’re so fun the way they just lay there and do nothing. Except course with electricity.
Let me take you through a typical Saturday morning. I put Eli down, surrounding him with all kinds of awesome blinking, booping, flashing toys. And then he bolts for the cords. Dragging himself slowly. Deliberately. “Must…get…cords. Must…get…cords.”
I usually lay there on the floor, one eye closed, one eye on the boy, seeing how close to sleep I can get without actually falling asleep. I let him get within a baby arm’s length of the cords and then grab him by the ankles and drag him back to me. I’ll change his direction, give him a flashing toy and start the war again. He plays for a minute and then gets a look that says, “Hey, isn’t there some really dangerous thing around here I can play with?” And he’s off again. Must…get…cords. Must…get…cords.
Don’t get me started on the stereo.
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