After today I have decided that it is amazing that any of us second (or third) born children have ever survived our older siblings. I don't mean that the first born are on a mission to kill off their younger sisters and brothers. I think that its just coincidence that most of their daily activities happen to create a myriad of death traps in the way of small pieces of toys strewn around the house. Liam almost succeeded today when he pulled these metal hooks out of my wall that are meant for holding back curtain sashes and placed them in the oven of Charlotte's laugh and learn kitchen. Did I mention that the other end of these hooks are pointy like nails and that they are easily small enough to be swallowed? Luckily I happened to hear the metal clink as Charlotte opened the door and reached for them.
Liam is now awaiting parole from his room.
The hidden message in all of that was - Charlotte is now on the move:
Its still an army crawl, but slowly she can get her little hands on anything at floor level.
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