The Stuff of Nightmares

I am hereby changing my youngest daughter’s moniker from Baldy Baby to Franken-baby.

And if they ever make a movie about zombie babies who take over the world and eat everyone’s brains, I will become a ‘stage mom’ and put her forward because quite frankly (no pun intended) she is the most wretched, awkward, lop-sided, grunting baby you will ever meet.

She thinks she is crawling.

She’s not. She’s really not.

Imagine the motion of a bicycle with square wheels. That’s what Franken-baby looks like.

At first I thought it was just beginners bad luck. She would lurch forward from the sitting position, thrusting her arms in front of her moments too late to prevent her face-planting the carpet. She would then pull herself forward on her tummy, the friction causing her pants to drag down exposing her bum, furthering hindering her motion.

Instinct obviously told her that her knees were meant to be doing something, so she would bend one up (but just one), but sideways rather than beneath her, so that it acted like a rudder, sending her gradually in a slow, awkward circle on the floor.

Then there was the noise, a combination of grunting and high-pitched shriek. It was a bit creepy but I just assumed it was the shock of forward motion after eleven months of being static.

A week or so later, I thought that Franken-baby might have made some developments. But she hasn’t: not only has she accepted her new mode of tummy-transport, but now it doesn’t seem to involve her legs at all. They remain completely superfluous to requirements.

Meanwhile, all her little baby friends are walking like professionals (nothing sinister intended there) while she lurches along on her belly like an eel with arms.

So, not creepy at all.