13 September 2011
My youngest celebrated being alive for nine months by becoming mobile. He spied a toy across the room and decided it was time to move. The fire of fierce determination was lit. After some failed attempts, he was hesitantly creeping forward and laughing in disbelief at his new found skill. Over the course of the last week, he's picked up speed at an alarming rate. Combine that with a lack of understanding of spacial relation (note to baby: you must keep your head down when crawling under the coffee table) and it's a tad bit* exhausting around here.
As a reward for mobility (and to save my sanity), I pulled out the set of baby ankle bells I purchased on one of my last trips to Bangkok's Chatuchak Market. I fell in love with the bells long before I made the purchase. I mean, look at them. They are all sorts of bronze, dangling, gentle ringing like chimes blowing in the breeze cuteness. Throughout southeast Asia, ankle bells are used to alert caregivers to the location of their child. Soft jangling accompanies their crawls and early walking stages so that those around them have a gentle reminder that a little one is approaching. And, with two active older children in the house, the bells are a nice reminder to look around you and make sure the baby hasn't crept closer than you expected. Without the bells, I swear he can silently appear at your feet (or the dishwasher or the stairs or the door hinges or...) at a speed of mach 10.
After hours of crawling and attempting to scale everything in sight, this is how his day ends...
*tad bit = extremely
Categorized: little bohemians.