Adventures in stair climbing, or, Mom's first official heart attack.

I was on the phone for a little while this morning, and Harrison was playing at my feet with a ball of yarn from my knitting bag. And then he was halfway up the stairs! Within seconds, he moved from my feet to the stairs and then climbed them at lightning speed, chasing Charlotte of course. It's as though he'd watched the pups enough times to see how it's done, and then just decided to get up and do it. "Oh no!..." I thought as I raced to the scene, my baby's short life flashing before my eyes, "...he can't be climbing flights of stairs yet, he's only ten months old!" I made it to him before he fell to what I was sure would be his death, or at least major bodily harm, and when I made it to his side to catch him he laughed. Little stinker. I was shaking and scolding myself for bad parenting, and he thought it was a grand lark, something fun to be repeated later. I sat him down at my feet again, and he made a beeline for the stairs. We played this new game for a little while, and finally I gave him a bath as distraction. Quite obviously, it is time for us to buy some baby gates. And no more talking on the phone with one eye on the baby, I promise!