It took my son learning to crawl for us to see his adventurous spirit. It would appear, now he knows how to get from here to there, the same blocks and wooden trains with which we have encouraged him to interact for the past 9.5 months(ish) don't really seem to cut it anymore.
The non-crawling leash has been cut and this boy is a mover.
My being non-imposed toward movement due to a virus that continues its refusal to move on, keeping up with this little man, teaching him where he is and, more importantly, is not, encouraged to incline his tiny knees, is getting more and more difficult.
We're working on it, though. And the friction between a mommy who is having difficulty chasing a crawler and a daddy who is doing his best to keep an entire household running (which, by the way, he is doing excellently), can sometimes boil up a little higher than necessary.
Little girl, meanwhile, seems to have noticed the issue and has done her best, in these rare moments, to tread lightly and act as peacemaker. During a particularly tense moment, I heard my daughter say, "Mommy, no yell! Talk to me. (whispers) Look at me. (Mommy gazes into her eyes.) Talk to me."
Wise beyond her years, I tell you, wise beyond her years.
And, as you may guess, nothing diffuses a tense moment like a soft-spoken toddler. We're doing better to mind our words and she is now reminding us not to yell at her, either. She's going to be trouble, that one.