I have never, ever, ever met anybody in my life, young or old, big or small, who wanted to move around as much as Desmond does. Ever since he realized that he could get from point A to point B, even if that distance was 6 inches, he's been fighting to go on that path crawling or walking. Except that he army crawls instead of regular baby crawls, which is quite frustrating and doesn't get him as far in the amount of time that he gives himself. And he doesn't walk on his own yet...he wants me to hold his hands while he walks and I walk, hunched over, right behind him. In Des's perfect world, he'd have a full-time hand-holder and carrier. He will not sit or lie down unless you distract him with a new something to gum on (today it was the packaging that held my toothbrush from the dentist's office). I hope that this means that he'll be an active adult when he grows up, but it's starting to stir some terror in me thinking about having a very active child.
I do not consider myself to be an active person. I like my couch. I like sitting on my couch. I like sitting on my couch and watching The Daily Show and House Hunters International, preferably while eating some kale chips (at least they're sorta healthy). I run because of my health, I take Desmond and Pirate on walks because I know that I'm burning more calories, I do yoga partly to keep up with my flexibility...every active thing I do is out of necessity. I do not find being active very fun most of the time. Unless it's dancing at a club to some Killers or The Cure...but oh, those days are few and far between.
If it were up to me, I'd rather relax, maybe get a pedicure and a head massage at the same time. So, the other day, when I, miraculously, had no meetings and no nanny, I took Desmond from errand to errand, stopping for a feeding and a nap (for him) in between, from 10:30am until 5:30pm. By the time 11pm rolled around, I was a zombie. Literally. I couldn't even bring myself to watch the end of the American Idol results that we had DVRed that night. Looking after and carrying Desmond all day WORE ME OUT like running, dancing, zumbaing, and yoga never have. Even when Des was waking up every 2 hours I didn't feel exhaustion like I felt that night. I don't know how most stay-at-home-moms do it. Tons of hats off to you...it's probably why you all are losing all the baby weight while I'm still clinging on to mine.
Anyhow, this post is about Des, not me. The kid loves moving around. The second he notices that you plan to plop him down on his tush he straightens his legs and arches his back, making it next to impossible for you to sit him down. The second he grabs onto your fingers and starts walking, he's all smiles and pride. He looks around to make sure that everyone in the room is watching and then goes on his course. Sometimes in circles, sometimes in straight lines. He's to the point now where he can stand by himself for like 6 seconds, but ends up falling on his bum. As you can imagine, the occupational hazard in being a mother to a 9-month-old includes sore lower backs: every day, I hunch over to let Des have access to my fingers and walk with him, for several minutes at a time, in a hunched over position. Des is like a slavemaster. The second I let go of his hand to stretch, he starts making his pissed-off sound (where he furrows his forehead and scrunches up his eyebrows and stick his lips out a lá Donald Trump and goes "uuuuuuggggghhhhhh uuuuuuuggggghhhh" in the most dissatisfied tone ever). The second I give him my hand back, his face smooths out at once and he smiles in pride as he starts taking his steps.
This was taken about a month ago. He's much less drunk looking now and can step up that step like a pro. Don't mind the boobage. Yet another occupational hazard.
This was taken about a week ago. The face and noises he's making are his, Dammit, Mom! Pick me the eff up already! He usually claps his hands when you say "Bravo!" but he doesn't do it in this video.
This final video (sorry for the bombardment) was just shot today. We got him one of those baby walkers and, though he was hesitant at first, is his new favorite thing to do. Watch as he pushes it into a rocking chair and then tries to back it out. Silly baby doesn't know how to put himself in reverse.
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