Get Up and Go

The Muffin Man is on the move.  That's right, my friends, he has started to crawl.  I'm not sure "crawl" is really the correct word, as it's more like a series of seizures propelling him across the room.  He hasn't quite figured out the mechanics of the whole crawling thing.  Right now he alternates between sliding around on his stomach while using his feet to push off of various pieces of furniture, or leaving his left arm crunched beneath him and pulling himself along with his right arm.  It's really quite entertaining, especially since he simultaneously grunts with frustration that he's unable to move as rapidly as he wants to.  Thankfully, his inability to move very fast has allowed me to postpone the whole baby proofing thing, although I'm afraid that I'm going to have to bite the bullet and get that taken care of before my son ends up propelling himself right down the stairs.

I sincerely hope that Noah's not-so-graceful crawling style doesn't portend his being uncoordinated.  I have this crippling fear that he's going to end up being an athletic dunce just like me, which will relegate him to a future of chess club and lingering virginity.  Hopefully he inherited his Father's natural athletic talents which, combined with his sparkling personality and large penis, will ensure his future as Mr. Popularity.  I will, of course, support him no matter what he excels at, but I'd much rather spend my weekends ogling cute high school boys in tight baseball pants than going to chess meets.