As far as I can tell, our human child is morphing into a crab. He hasn’t displayed much interest in crawling the traditional way. But he is moving from one side of his play mat to the other. On his head. He arches his back, pushes up with his feet, and tips his head back so that he can see the upside-down-world behind him. When something catches his interest, a jolt of energy rushes to his toes, which then causes him to arch his back and push off again. And that’s how his head goes from safely-on-padded-fabric to inches-away-from-a-concussion-on-the-hardwood-floor in approximately 7.9 seconds.

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The world is apparently much more interesting when the floor becomes the ceiling and the ceiling becomes the floor. When trees begin with the branches and end with the trunk. When lamp shades and cribs and dogs appear to float…. and, whoa, what’s that up Daddy’s nose?! Not to mention all the blood rushing to the head.

So every chance he gets, Declan cranes his neck to turn his world upside down. After his naps, he’ll stare at himself in the mirror like that and smile. When he’s supposed to be breastfeeding, he will pull off, arch his back, tilt his head to the left and right to survey the room, and let out a satisfied grunt…much to the chagrin of his mom who would love it if, just once, he would focus on the task at hand.

But isn’t that one of the great discoveries of life? That you have the power to change how you see the world. That you can’t change your situation, but you can change your outlook. I mean, let’s face it: sometimes life just isn’t all it’s cracked up to be right-side up. There’s heartbreak and loss and frustration and boredom amid the joy–whether you’re the parent, the child, or the human-crab hybrid–and sometimes it’s just better to flip your lid, turn the page (and your shoulder), and say, “Bottoms up!”

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