When I was pregnant, I wore a t-shirt with a monkey on it and “little monkey” written across the belly. Had I but known.
This morning, we went to the park for my workout, and afterwards, I sat and talked to my friend L while we both fed our babies. We talked for a while, and Buttercup, who just learned to crawl properly on Saturday, grabbed her stroller wheel and pulled herself up on it. She’s been pulling up and sitting on her knees for a while and does occasionally pull up onto her feet, but she’s always seemed pretty unsure of herself. So this morning while I was talking, she just stood up with her hands on the stroller wheel (it’s a jogger, so tall wheels), and boy did it seem like the most natural thing in the world. I’m not ready for this!
So later we walked back to our cars and kept talking. For the short walk back, I sat Buttercup in her stroller but didn’t strap her in. Ah, how the laziness teaches us things. I stood chatting for quite a while, and the Cup happily played in her stroller. I wasn’t watching her; she was in front of me, and L was to the side several yards away, and I was looking at her. After a few minutes, I heard a noise that sounded like Buttercup kicking the tray on her stroller.
L said, “Um, Buttercup just scooted out of her stroller.” I looked over, and my child was on the ground, on her butt. I rushed the 2 feet over and picked up my baby, who was still quite happy. I asked L if she fell. Nope, she kind of scooted under the bar and climbed down, landed on her butt on the ground.
I am in so much trouble.