And we’re moving.

Maelie. Maelie’s moving.

More specifically, she’s crawling.

(Relax, Mom. We’re not moving!)

I walked into the living room yesterday, stopped, blinked, and realized that where I had placed Maelie down on the carpet, was now empty.

Hmm.

I looked to my right, no Mae.

I looked to my left, no Mae.

Then I turned and looked by the dog bed.

Me: “Hey, Mae! How’d you get over there!”
Maelie: “MAAAAAAAAAHHHH!”
Sadie-dog (whilst hair getting ripped out of her poor doggy neck): *Sigh*

Score one for Maelie.

So she’s everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Half way under the couch, in the dog bed, under my desk, in the book box, near the stairs…

And it’s hilarious. Except when I can’t find her for two seconds.

Last night I had to put her in the walk-about just to keep her in one location. Is that considered a restraint?

The other two find this a source of their amusement. They call her like a dog. “Mae-Moo! Mae!!! MAE MAE! OVER HERE!” And she obliges to the best of her ability.

The best part is that her hands are covered in fuzz and fur and god knows what and by the time she gets to me, she’s still got her cheesy, drooly perma-grin on her face ready to attack because by god she got there and you had best appreciate.

I appreciate, Mae.

After the kids went to bed Matt and I sat on the couch, watching the Pens game. We talked about how big Mae is getting, how the other two are silly and how we’re both so glad to be parents.

Then Matt ruined the moment with this gem:

Matt: “Your legs are prickly.”
Me: “Do you want to shave them?”
Matt: “No.”
Me: “Then shut the hell up.”

Men.