Every night I roll my eyes and load the dishwasher while Jacob "works with Lillie" on crawling. She's never done it. She is a little late by our previous daughters' standards and this causes him to worry. Not me. Just him. She comes so close. He never gives up. He keeps telling her (even though she doesn't speak English yet) how, where to put her hands, encouraging phrases, pep talks. He gets a blank, blue-eyed stare in return. Up until tonight.
We had just caught the American Idol theme song on Fox. Homework done, kitchen clean, and older daughters put to bed when out of the corner of my eye I saw Baby Girl Einstein put one hand, one knee, other hand, other knee, shakily forward to reach out and grab her balled up dirty diaper I had just changed her out of. The filth! The grossness! The Genius! We both cheered like the seasoned-but-still-interested parents that we are. We got the girls out of bed! We made them witness it! We video-taped it! We sang and clapped and chanted and kissed!
Then we turned off the video tape and promptly forced everyone back into bed.
But we are so proud of our baby. So proud of her. She crawls! Not that I doubted her brain function with that massive cranium of hers, but still. She could have graduated Harvard for the proud glances we gave each other.
And of course Jacob takes all the credit. Credit that is rightfully his.