Muski is on the move!
He is not quite 6 months old (his half birthday is Christmas day) and no, he is not a genius child, he is not crawling already, or walking. He is rolling.
I lay him down on the floor on a nice soft rug, thinking to get a few things done while I have two hands free. He is happily gurgling away, chewing on whatever appropriate, safe, baby toy looked tasty at the time so off I go to the other side of the lounge room to fold some of the giant mountain of laundry that has suddenly appeared. All is well, I am happily (well ok not happily) folding and sorting, then something makes me glace over towards where I am sure I left the baby just a moment ago. Not there. Huh?
I can still hear the gurgling so I know he is in the room somewhere. I look around, starting to get a tad frantic now. I realise we’ve watched the Labyrinth far too many times of late as the thought that the girls may have wished their baby brother away to the Goblin City to dance with David Bowie in his way to tight tights crosses my mind (though they always assure me they would never do that cause they love him too much). I can hear paper rustling with the gurgling now… it is coming from under the… chair?
Yes, there he is, under the chair, chewing on one of the girls drawings!
It seems the roly poly baby gets tired of what he is chewing on, so he takes off… rolling over and over until he manages to find something much more tasty. A cushion? A piece of fuzzy felt? A piece of paper? A plastic animal? A doll’s head?
Oh dear… not even crawling yet and trouble is brewing. The twinadoes are not very good at packing up, in fact the mere mention of the word is greeted with such great excuses as ‘I can’t my feet are too dead’ and ‘I can’t my hair is in my eyes’. Yet they are not at all impressed to find half of their new fuzzy felt fashion boutique covered in baby slobber. I, on the other hand, am not too keen on all the varied and exciting choking hazards Muski now has access to…. oh yes.. trouble is coming!