My babe is a mover. In fact, she rotated 90 degrees and rolled a few times only to fall off the bed today. I felt like a negligent parent when I got a phone call with my screaming child in the back ground " . . . I was gone for less than 20 seconds grabbing a diaper . . ."
I still went to the grocery store. And Mikey went home to cuddle her and make sure she didn't have a concussion. (She didn't. And we're pretty sure she landed on a pillow).
I feel like she's going to be doing cartwheels next week. The kid gets around.
We used to sing the Woody's Roundup song to Ada and changed the words to:
She's the root'-ness toot'-ness baby in the Wild Wild West!
Now we sing:
She's the scoot'-ness toot'-ness baby . . .
Everyone is telling me to brace myself for an early walker (or knock her down when she gets up on all fours to start crawling). I have a feeling the flight to Bologna is going to be longer than we thought.