Crawl Bawl

At a little over four months old - I think my baby is amazing. People compliment me on his "soulful" stare, his adorable grin and his ability to stuff his entire hand into his tiny mouth. I've called Guiness Records on that last one.

So when his daddy and I placed him on his back under his fun gym so that he could exercise the last thing we expected was that it would turn into a rescue mission.

He started out calmly enough by grasping the tail of the monkey dangling over his face - he then flung himself to his side and, before we could move, on to his belly. He then pushed up on to his chubby arms, repeatedly banging his head on the plastic disc that was hanging at the end of the gym. His legs began to kick furiously in an effort to crawl, but instead, since his arms are not as strong as his constantly-moving legs, he ended up eating mat.

But he didn't stop kicking.

Instead he kept trying to crawl, orange and yellow-striped butt wiggling in the air while his face was ground into the colorful sealife mat below.

He actually made progress, like a determined inchworm, until he hit the pole at the end of the gym, which made him scream indignantly until daddy rescued him.

"There ya go," Big Harry said as he rolled him back on to his back and placed him under Harvey the Monkey. Big Harry got up from the floor, turned around, and almost made it back to the couch when he looked back and saw his child wriggling back on to his stomach to repeat the process.

We are all gluttons for punishment in this family!