We jokingly let our Small Fry climb up the Mom or Dad mountain when he wants to stand or crawl, vertically. Off he sets, feverishly trying to dislodge our noses, grab a hold of our teeth or use my hair as a harness to propel himself upwards.

Fearless, determined, eager and happy as hell. That’s him in a nutshell. He’s also strong-willed and impatient. He wants to move, now. While he’s not quite crawling, I often witness him wriggling his way across the floor in the ‘tummy march’, half happy, half wingey, just wanting to get… somewhere.

And doesn’t that sum up parenthood? Well, this stage anyway. Mostly happy and pleased as punch that we’re all still alive, but also terrified of falling and frustrated because we’re sort of in the middle of nowhere.

Just as you get used to one stage, it’s off to the next we go. We’re sleeping through, then not because there’s a blocked nose / growth spurt / cat playing with a sock in his bedroom, loudly / teeth / gas / the weather changes. It’s like we’re constantly at the very bottom of a very steep idiot curve except, unlike in business or new jobs, this curve just goes on infinitely.

Well, while we’re here in the middle of nowhere we may as well get comfy. Give up trying to multitask. Sit your butt on the floor and play. Better yet, lie yourself right down and let your teeny weeny maniac climb all over the mom mountain. You’re doing great.

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