Two days ago Robin turned eleven months. I’m finding it hard to digest the fact that she’ll be one in less than a month.
I’m also finding it hard to believe that the little energy bomb zooming around the house is the same sweet, laid-back baby I gave birth to eleven months ago.
The other day, I was at the computer writing a quick email and she was playing next to me on the floor. At a certain point I looked back to check on her and this is what I saw:
Confusion ensued. How had she got there? Had the husband sat her on the toy box and left the room? He might encourage the girls to be adventurous, but even he would consider doing something of the sort as irresponsible. So, after much protesting from the little lady perched on the box, I managed to get her down on the floor (obviously, after taking this photo as proof). Then I moved away from her and waited to see what she would do.
And this is what she did:
She has also been getting to things we though she would never reach, like laptops on tables, cables in closed boxes (on tables), newspapers (again on tables).
Yesterday I took the girls to the swings and, for the first time, the baby swings weren’t broken or too dirty or too hot to put Robin in them. So I sat her in one of them, expecting her to want to get off it or be scared. I couldn’t have been further off the mark. She swung herself for five minutes (I didn’t even push her once), all the while looking around her and calling out at the children who were playing football near us.
WHO IS THIS GIRL?!