Mobile

The tentative looks on the travelers' faces betrayed them. These strangers were not nearly as excited for the first "all Mama" weekend as I was. I know it was their version of baby roulette....all silently praying that we wouldn't land near them. We did land next to an elderly couple who had recently met in person, after meeting virtually for months. Spence and I huddled up in our window seat in the very last row...playing with a teething block, reading books and drinking ice cold water. He kick, kick, kicked the seat in front of him when I finally offered him his second favorite liquid an hour into the flight. The guy in front deserved it...he knew that we were two and still leaned his seat back. Here's to traveling before the boy is mobile...

And then, shortly after touchdown, the boy became mobile. I watched as he assumed the crawling position and instead of just rocking on all fours, he moved forward. Progress. Right there on Aunt Emily's floor. A mixture of horror and delight all meshed together filled my heart. The closest Dave and I had come to babyproofing the house was to say the word aloud. No action. But, mobility waits for no cabinet latch. Our boy is crawling.



And biting. Those two pearly whites, still hidden from view, have been practicing on my nipples. Love at first bite? Spence seems to think so. He drink, drink, drinks and then chomp. A blinding grin follows. I try not to shriek and check for blood drips. I keep trying to burn into my memory Dr. Sears' mandate...push the babe into the breast after a bite, not away. It all flitters out of my head as the next bite floods my pain sensors. Seven bites and counting.