When successful, this usually results in extended periods of happy play time for my son. If 1) he sees me go or 2) one of his siblings tries to 'help', playtime is officially over and he returns to his six inch diameter of gravitational pull from mom.
Well, it was a very well constructed plan until he decided to start really crawling.
Rhode has a new favorite storybook right now called "Peepsqueak" about a small baby chick who doesn't give up in his attempts to fly high. Every page ends with sentence, "But not Peepsqueak, he was on the move!"
Asher has now officially been dubbed Peepsqueak.
Not only does he use his lithe frame to move all over the place but he is constantly on the move to find me. He usually meanders on his journey, stopping to taste every treasure the carpet can hold but before I know it, he is peeking his head around the corner of the doorway in pure delight because, yes, he has found me once again.
Not only is he crawling, he is also pulling himself to standing. And now on three different occasions I have watched him let go and balance himself on two legs before dropping to his diapered bottom.
He is seven months old and he is on the move.
I have also decided he is a musical genius. You know how they are always bragging that Mozart wrote his first symphony when he was three? Notice how they are never playing said symphony. I have always wondered how technical this symphony was. I think Asher may have him beat.