...and the clouds parted and a voice said "LET THERE BE SPROUT" and it was good

The Sprout is on the move. He has decided that crawling is certainly where it's at, if only he could stop scooting backwards and actually achieve the forward momentum that he knows is there. Pretty soon I'm going to put him on the ground and he's going to NinjaWarrior the hell out of crawling. He is going to pwn it as it has never been pwned before.

Mother-in-Law has been having some sad days lately watching him scoot ever further (backwards) from babyhood and into a new and adventuresome phase of his life that, if we're lucky, won't ever end. I feel uncomfortable talking too much about her feelings here because she doesn't know about this blog (and I intend to keep it that way. She's an English teacher and I totally don't need that reading my wurds and sleeping under the same roof.), and...well, because it's really my ideas of maybe the way she might be feeling. But I will say this: This is probably her last baby. When we bought a house together we were not expecting to go down this road. This road was well paved, we thought, and did not need another layer of asphalt. Apparently we were wrong. It hellof needed a quick going-over and the Sprout was happy to oblige and here we are, one brand new baby in the house and a grandma who is beginning to face the other end of things. I'm not saying she's on her way out--far from it. She's healthy, in way better shape than me and is determined to keep it that way. But at almost-seventy, things must look a little different and having a baby in the house who is quickly becoming not-such-a-baby probably puts a little emphasis on it.

All this to say that while grandma is sad that she's losing her baby, and I am maybe a little apprehensive about losing a non-mobile being, I am so excited to see this look again. It's the look of adventure and opened cabinets that I thought were locked. The sense of reckless abandon and brick steps on the patio. That all things are new and must be eaten/touched/banged/eaten. That the world truly is an oyster and that if you don't get Vibrio parahaemolyticus then it's all fun and games.

For 9 months he has taken in the world around him. He has been a little baby of light and sweetness. There was nothing but pure love and happiness in his whole being. Holding him was calming in a way that I have never experienced before. He was present and loving and beautiful and bright. He still is these things. But now he's ready to pwn the world. I feel lucky to be a part of him.