Scooter.

This morning I looked up from my laptop and noticed that Simone’s play mat was empty. Empty, as in the baby who had been there moments before was missing. Naturally, my first thought was Gypsies, but Gypsies prefer warmer climes, and have usually moved south by this time of year. A hawk was another possibility, but surely I would have heard it screeching as it carried off my delectable spawn. And then I DID hear a noise, and glanced to my right, and lo and behold there was Simone, halfway across the room.

Why, she’s learned to crawl! you’re thinking, but no. Simone despises her belly (though that doesn’t stop her from rolling onto it 396 times a day and screaming to be rescued), so I think crawling is still far off. Instead, as I discovered when I watched her make her way under a chair, she has learned to scoot around on her back, head first, by pushing with her heels. It looks…uncomfortable, to say the least, and she is going to rub off what little hair she has by scraping it along our hardwoods, but I must admit she makes good time. I put her back on the mat, and half-a-minute later she was on her side under a distant piece of furniture, toying with a power cord.
Scott is worried that she’ll scrape the back of her scalp raw. Obviously I need to build Simone some sort of pen, or at least clean my floors more often. I may just tape a Swiffer cloth to the back of her head—two birds, one stone.