Upping the Ante

All right. Somebody send a memo to this kid. Something like this:

Dear Sir:

Please cease and desist with the accelerated growing up already.

Signed,

Your Parents

Last night while I was patiently (ha!) waiting for Bry to go to sleep already, I watched in semi-horror as he PULLED HIMSELF UP TO STAND using his crib bumper and rails as a jungle gym. He stood up long enough to get the top crib rail in his mouth before he toppled over backwards, narrowly missing cracking his head on the opposite side of the crib. Today grandma found him standing post-nap as well. Yipes.

There are no pictures of these events because watching him stand up causes me to become rooted to the ground, contemplating the impending doom of a baby on the run. The shock of seeing the kid standing up under his own power reminds me of a couple we saw at the mall when Bry was maybe a month or two old. Steve and I were casually wandering through the mall with Bry fast asleep in his stroller (good times, those) when a crazed toddler came booking down the hall. He must have been about 18 months old and was running laps around a kiosk full of brochures. In his excitement, he was pulling brochures off the kiosk and tossing them into the air like confetti. His poor parents were trying to simultaneously chase after him, halt his actions, and stuff the brochures back into the kiosk. At that moment, the mom caught my eye and grimly said, "Enjoy your first year." Chilling words. Who can grab the camera in the midst of all of that contemplation?