Hit the Ground Crawling

So admittedly it's been awhile since a mommy adventure has been documented via typing. The lack of stories mostly coincides with the end of maternity leave, but now the time has come to hit the ground of writing with some crawling.

At least Felicity seems to thinks it’s time to crawl. Only she’s finding that her body doesn’t want to cooperate yet. I noticed she wanted to crawl when she started making flips onto her tummy to signal the end of naptime. Then, during playtime, she’d flop onto her large middle and stretch her little fingers grabbing at the toy that rolled just out of reach.

Toes push the ground, but her belly keeps her beached. And the most she’s managed is to scoot backwards or to rotate using her belly as an axis. But the crawling is coming soon. She wants it badly. The little toes are starting to realize they need to push at the ground and determination to move forward fills her face with each passing day.

At the moment, crawling is a Mueller family theme. The process of discovering just which school Nathan will be going to has inched along. Mostly, we too seem to be turning on an axis waiting to see in which direction forward motion will start. Hopefully, soon that rotation will turn into movement forward; crawling, walking, and running.

Felicity though is welcome to take her sweet, precious baby time. I hear it takes a lot of effort to chase a baby around.

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The Adventure Begins Very Early on the Morning of July 15th

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Days like this begin when the night before I choose not to sleep, because I must read a few more lines from some news site or scroll one last time through the glowing screen of my iPhone instead of making good on my resolve to read quality literature and journal prior to bed. They continue when I wake up earlier than usual to teach, but finish teaching to realize that my children also went to bed later then they should. So now, everyone’s patience operates like feet hitting a wet spot on a wood floor. Bam. You loose traction. And first one then another is upset and done. That tantrum sparked another melt-down from someone else, and as I try to not join the melt-downs, and instead attempt to be the adult I hazard some words of explanation. “Your choices impact us all.” I tell one of them. My children’s choice do change the tenor of the room for good or for ill, but so do my choices. On days of this sort, where nothing is really wrong, other than a strong case of the grumpies...

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