The dangers of crawling
If only I had a turd eye in the back of my head, bemoans this mom of a newly mobile baby.
There's no denying 9-month-olds are curious creatures. And while their inquisitive behaviour can be endearing, there are times when it scares the bejeebers out of me.

While everyone had warned me about the terrors of a mobile baby, nothing could have prepared me for the paranoia that's befallen me since my little munchkin learnt to crawl.

Before I get carried away, I'd better not call it crawling. It's more like shuffling, to be honest. What makes it weirder is that he propels himself forward using just one leg, dragging the other one like a dead weight. While the peg-leg approach may not look too sophisticated, he certainly gets around and oh boy, I shudder to think what he'd get up to if left to his own devices.

It's not the nibbling of the grass that bothers me – nor the torn newspapers. I can handle the odd moth that he crumbles between his fingers, and a broken pot plant or two. There are, however, certain things that are cause for alarm...

As a child, my mother always told us she had a third eye at the back of her head (which would explain why she always knew what we were up to).  Now that I'm a Mom myself, it seems I'm more in need of a 'turd eye'... Let me explain:

I'd just given baby a fresh nappy. Having scanned the room for potential hazards, I plonked him down for a crawling session. Being desperate for the loo, I left the room doing a quick double take, and realised I'd left the nappy bin on the floor. Not a good plan. With bin out of the way, I was safe to nip off. Or so I thought...

I was only gone a few minutes, but then again, that's all it normally takes. You see, when I'd moved the nappy bin, a lone turd (quite unbeknown to me) had made its great escape onto the carpet. You can see where I'm going with this, can't you?

It took only a split second to spot the dollop of poo heading towards Baby's mouth. I had to act fast.

With a tackle worthy of an American football player, I managed to release his grip on the 'ball'. 'The fingers, the fingers', I thought to myself, ' to get it off the fingers'.  With the help of some handy baby wipes, I managed to avert the crisis.  Situation neutralised. Job done.

The need for vigilance

Talk about a wake-up call.

It's moments like this that make me seriously doubt I'll ever be safe to go to the loo alone again.

As for anything that requires concentration, I'll have to save that for when Baby's tucked away in bed. I guess what I really need to come to terms with is that a mobile baby needs 100% attention, all the time.

But while keeping Baby out of harm's way has become my obsession, my significant other sees things  differently. You see, Dad has a far more laissez faire approach to supervision. The kind of approach that involves plonking baby down on the grass between an open can of beer and a dead lizard, while he reads his magazine.

But as the two of them erupt into giggles while the dog licks Baby's face, I realise it could be a lot worse. At least Dad keeps him safe from his own poo!

Have you had any close calls with crawling babies? Share below!

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