I've been good so far at fighting the second-child syndrome, but I've certainly let things slide a bit in the last few weeks. It's all his fault, frankly. If he'd let me sleep, I'd have enough brain power to do more than stare blankly at the wall when I'm done with the necessities of life. Anyhow.
In the past week, Jack has finally cut his first tooth (lower front left (his left)) and started crawling! It was very halting and ugly at first - maybe one knee, one hand, one knee, and fall to the belly. But this morning we put him on the floor and he made purposeful movement - across the room and back. Straight to my diaper bag. He's already into everything - in 5 minutes he managed to pull 7 different items out of my bag, give each a cursory chew, and throw each to the side in search of more tasty finds. Evidentially the plastic end of a tube of diaper-rash cream is the most delicious of them all.
The first time he really made movement on his own was two days ago, in our living room. I looked away for a minute and when I looked back this is what I saw:
In his own quiet way, I think Jack is going to be far more trouble than Nate ever was. He's been crawling for 2 days, and each time he crawl to something tall and starts to climb it (entertainment center, couch, whatever). If my bag is on the floor he pulls everything out that he can find. Nate was never still, but he was always sensible - he never ended up on the dining room table or climbed up our bookshelf or some other heart-stopping feat. Jack, my sweet one, my cuddly one, is going to be the one to turn my hair gray. I can just feel it.
It is neat to watch him climb, though, and wonder if he'll be 24 and off to climb Everest and I'll be telling my friends "You know, he was always like this. Right from the start he wanted to climb. He fell down, bonked himself, cried pitifully, and started right back up again. That's my Jack."