...is going to be the end of me.
To the average onlooker, it might appear to be a small half-step that separates a family room from a kitchen.
But to me, it looks like the end of my days.
As soon as Anna began to crawl, she mastered the art of crawling up the step. And then we encountered a problem. And the problem isn't that she cannot figure out how to get down the step. It's that she can't figure out there is a step there at all.
Going up...sees the step and crawls up without hesitation.
And then, in her mind, it no longer exists.
I guess the part of her brain that processes depth hasn't fully developed yet.
And so, where does that leave me?
- I can't go to the bathroom unless I shut her in with me.
- I can't cook dinner unless she is strapped in her highchair.
- I can't look at a magazine, watch the news, talk on the phone, or do anything that may compromise my concentration on her gravitational pull to the invisible step.
But, hey, she's crawling!
P.S. For the record, I resisted the dropped-floor family room floor plan from day one for this very reason...
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