But we shouldn't have been surprised. To date, this kid has rushed into everything head on. Literally. His gigantic melon is a kaleidoscope of purple and yellow bruises. Not surprising, given the fact that he staggers around on his tip-toes like a drunken Baryshnikov.
Here's an excerpt from Jena's daily update for yesterday:
Finn attacked the room like a madman this morning... moving from object to object in lightning speed while pulling up, opening, shutting, pulling down, climbing over, banging, and throwing anything in his way. Layla and Grace sat in open-mouthed amazement watching Finn's incredible ability to scale all things primary-colored and plastic.He's insane. Army crawling is as obsolete as a stagecoach ride or a Segway. The boy now splits his time between (hands and knees) speed-crawling and upright cruising with the help of our wide selection of pointy and stabby furniture. In order to limit the bloodshed, I spent the weekend childproofing the house. Every drawer and cabinet in Finnville is now secure, with the exception of the drawer that holds his bibs, because apparently you're supposed to give the kid one thing that he can get into. Plus, it's a lot of fun watching him swing open on that drawer at 150 mph and then slam it back in on his fingers. Good times.
We also now have so many baby gates that navigating through our house feels like the hunt for the Holy Grail in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. You need to know exactly when to kneel, where to step and which cup to drink from in order to enter the kitchen or to get up the stairs. The carpets are stained with the blood of those that have failed these tests.
I've also had to lower his crib -- again -- to keep him from jumping out. Since Kitty was studying this weekend, I decided to lock Finn in the room with me while I worked using one of our 157 new baby gates. While I was surveying the scene and revving up the power tools, Finn was dismantling the night light. I caught him just as he was about to take a bite out of the bulb. After rationally discussing with him the importance of not ingesting electricity & glass and gaining confidence that he understood, I spent the next half-hour working on the crib with one hand and wrestling the light bulb out of his hands with the other.
After eventually securing the nightlight, the process was repeated with the bottle warmer, the power drill, and the ratchet set. He eventually found comfort somewhere inside the laundry hamper. At least, that was the last place I saw him. I hope he's still in there.
I fear for our Christmas tree.
Being that it is the season, here's a pic of Finn and mommy at the reindeer feeding this weekend at Swanson's Nursery. Not interested in Blitzen, Finn was eyeing the broken glass at our feet, which I'm sure he thought looked delicious.