The Lip.

So how is it that a 20 pound, 8 and a half month old being can already understand, process, and marvelously execute the art of defiance? She doesn't know where her nose is, but somehow she knows what we want her to play with, and what she's not supposed to play with. The pile of toys--carefully researched, picked out, and purchased specifically for her enjoyment--in a pile on the living room floor? Nah. She'd rather go for the vaccuum cord, the foot of the stairs, Louie's tail, the piece of change that has accidentally fallen out of my pocket. Adelyn already has her own remote, sans batteries, because it's far more entertaining, I guess, that any fancy toy designed for a baby. I think we're going to find an old cell phone for her soon, because that's also a top contender on her favorites list. Do they make a safe vaccuum cleaner cord?

My version of child proofing looks like this: all wobbly furniture has been banished in non-Addy areas. Little things stay off the floor. My parents graciously traded their cushy, ottoman-coffee-table for our hard, glass wood one. The rest of the time my version of child-proofing is picking Addy up and setting her in a different direction.