Over the weekend, Ike developed an obsession with the step in our living room. He spent a couple hours scooting back and forth in front of it, touching it, putting toys on top of it. At one point I caught him lying on his back and intently examining the lip from below. Fucking steps, how do they work?
He was like a raptor in Jurassic Park, investigating the electric fences. Looking for weaknesses.
Yesterday, he found one.
About five minutes after discovering the finger-gripping, body-dragging properties of the floor vent, he managed to pull himself up and over the step. And then, resisting the siren call of That Random Power Cord That I Need To Move Right After I Figure Out What It's Even Bleeping Connected To In The First Place, he was so pleased with his new skill that he promptly rolled right back off it, just so he could climb up again.
Pride & Doomudice
There's something indescribably awesome about watching a baby purposely figure things out, as they scrunch up their faces and drool from all the tremendous effort it takes to get soupy brains and uncoordinated limbs in gear. And yet so bittersweet, because slow down, baby! Your head still bruises like a peach and the world is just so sharp and pointy.
Noah is very proud. Noah is still a bit unclear on the concept that baby brothers turn into actual little brothers.
HIDE YO KIDS HIDE YO LEGOS
(I should acknowledge that yeah, I don't actually have pictures of him making the final leg of the climb, because I decided to videotape this attempt instead. I got some absolutely terrific footage of him losing his balance and thwacking the shit out of his forehead on the wall corner, though! Look for it in his first birthday montage video, or perhaps a parental competency hearing.)