Maybe getting too late for bets. . .

No, she's not all out crawling yet, but she is inching closer. . .quite literally. Tonight during our typical bedtime routine I decided to give tummy time another go. Megan arched her back and lifted herself fairly high, spotted the dog, reached and then cried. Tasha was, luckily for Tasha, out of Megan's reach.

But hey, the dog is good motivation to move, right? So Megan stretched again. No such luck. She buried her face in the carpet and yelled. And so I tutored. I tapped her right foot moving it a bit so that her knee hugged her side. Then I tapped her left foot.

And then Megan did it.

She moved one hand and then the other to pull herself forward and straightened her legs as she did so.

We did this a few times - just enough to get Meg close enough to brush her fat baby fingers to Tasha's reluctant paw. The dog then ran, but Megan had something bigger figured out.

Logan came down the hall moments later, fresh off his bath and looking for the night's storyteller (aka me). I urged him to sit a short distance from his sister - just out reach. We called Daddy to watch. And Meg did it again. This time she did most of the work herself and she kept her head up fairly high. She'd get a foot on my palm and push off hard as she reached in front of her with a hand. Then the next foot and reaching with the other hand. She's not up on her knees as she does it. She drags her legs along the ground in a weird sort of half crawl. She keeps her eyes locked on her target and she laughs with pride as she goes along her quest.

Logan clapped for her. He cheered. He crawled around her showing her what to do again and then he hugged her. And Megan laughed. Then she flipped herself on to her back and clapped proudly with her feet in imitation of the three of us. We clapped for her and cheered and she, being her typical self, basked in the glow.