Don't Fence Me In

Reagan is desperate to be fully mobile, and her persistence means figuring out new & creative ways to keep her confined.  I am sure she's highly confused as we all encourage her to roll over, crawl, scoot, pull up, etc. while confining her with gates, straps, and buckles.

We had to lower the mattress in her crib last week.  I attempted to capture her upward motion on camera.

Playing peek-a-boo with me through the rails:

Inch . . . 

by inch . . . 

by inch . . . 

For her first Labor Day, Trey, Reagan, & I joined the four grandparents, Aunt Deni, Aunt Jessica, & Uncle Heath at my parents' house for steaks (I wish I had taken a picture of my steak, because it was a thing of beauty thanks to Chef Heath).  My parents' dog, Ethan, is not fond of anyone who diverts my mother's attention from him, nor is he too keen on Reagan's increasing vocal range, so we have to keep them separated with a gate.  Maybe when she's a little older, Reagan will stand at the gate & demand we tear down the wall that divides the objects of my mother's affection, but for now, Reagan & Ethan remain relegated to their side of the gate.

Susan & Ethan in East James Living Room:

Reagan in West James Living Room, reaching for her grandmother's toes on the other side of the gate:

Reagan pondering the need for a world with gates:

Having had enough of the division, Reagan headed for open space where she was free to roam:

AZ