I have an adorable flippin' child. Literally.
A flippin' adorable child.
An adorable flipper.
A flippin' cutie.
A cutie-pie flippin' adorable child.
Who can't stop flipping. Onto her tummy.
And while I'm so proud of her newfound skill--not to mention, her boundless enthusiasm for said newfound skill--it's a tad inconvenient at the moment. Because the cutie-pie flipper can't stop getting herself stuck--usually in the bars of her crib.
Like this:
She's a riot. And a hot mess.
I love, love, love that she's flipping like a maniac, but I really, really, really hope she figures out how not to get her legs stuck in the rails. Or Mama's gonna have to go out and buy a breathable mesh bumper to help a girl out.
Oh, and for kicks ('cause the tummy/rail issue isn't enough of a worry for me), Baby Girl has also started putting her cute little head face down in such a way that I feel the need to walk my fanny into the nursery every five minutes to check on her breathing.
Seriously--the hubby and I have been in there six times since we put her down.
Good thing she's so darn cute.
Face plant and all.
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