Trouble.

Status: Sniffly. The baby and I got stuffy noses from being out in the rain two days ago. Darn it!

Well, I'm officially in trouble. The baby is mobile. He's not crawling yet, but he's "scooting." I'll sit him down in one place with toys, and I'll turn around and he'll be three feet from where I sat him. He'll be eleven months next week. He's a little delayed, because of being in the harness for four months. But he's study and strong now!

Time to babyproof the house! I told the boys I'd give them a day to get every Lego they own into their room, where they will stay. If I find any Legos on the floor in any room after the "Day of Gathering," I will throw them away. And I mean it. Into the garbage it will go. I won't care if it's a "vital piece of the Star Wars ship." It will be gonzo. I've already rescued the baby from choking on one of their checkers, so I'm done with small toys.

Luckily I believe in playpens. For my own sanity. Once he's truly mobile, I will use it. My SIL is adamantly against playpens. She was complaining the other night about how her crawler was into EVERYTHING and she had to pull all the curtains up, the cords, the knick-knacks, and basically alter her entire way of living. But she won't hear of a playpen. I call it "Self-inflicted Misery." She's nuts--and I don't mean crazy. She's constantly nuts, trying to get stuff done and keep him out of everything.

I don't see anything wrong with playpens. Playpens teach kids how to entertain themselves. Of course they're not for the child to be left in for hours at a time, but if one needs to get something done, and the baby needs to be "safe" then a playpen is ideal.

I'm gearing up to get writing again. I miss it. I miss the flow of words, and the churning of my brain. I miss being "in the Zone." I miss feeling...accomplished.

And now I'd better eat something before I collapse. Lots of Orange Juice!