"Oh my, he must keep you running all day long," or "I bet he runs you ragged, doesn't he?"
That's just two of the most common commentaries we get when Gus and I are out in public - usually at the grocery store, the post office or the playground or somewhere in between.
And it's true, sitting down takes effort on my part, because Gus keeps going and that means most of the time, he moves on - out of my sight and unless I can muster the energy to get up, I have to plain trust that he won't eat dirt (he has), swallow some poisenous chemical (I'm glad I use an all-natural dishwasher detergent consisting of coconut shreds), or scale a 10-foot fence (he doesn't care how high, he just starts from the bottom up).
Yes, most of the time, I bounce out of my seat pretty quickly to put my mind at ease...although I'm learning to let Gus go off on his own little adventures...I sneak up on him only to watch him from a clandestine perch as he gurgles and babbles his way through some highly complicated scenario involving a pebble and the shed door...or as he dances with equal parts emotion and zeal to the radio, while thoughtfully chewing on a lipbalm container...
But what he really likes to do, ever since he's learned to move through life on two feet, is to be near me (or Jacob or his favorite playmate of the moment). It's true he keeps me moving, but just this morning as I handled four loads of laundry and tried to clean up our kitchen, I noticed that Gus likes to be in the same room with me...so as I move from bathroom to bedroom and outdoors to the clothesline, he follows...it's that sweet pitter-patter of his little sneakered feet that I hear almost all the time behind me. He doesn't seem to mind to let go of one toy or activity to follow me to another location, where he picks up a new thing or game, only to abandon that, too, to come and sit in front of the washer with me as I unload laundry. Then it's back outside, where I hang laundry and he scares the neighbor dog with a shrieky falsetto song only outdone by his charismatic waving of a deep gold oak leaf...it's an impressive interpretive dance...although Sasha, the scaredy-cat German Shepherd, appears overwhelmed.
I tell you, this kid is so much fun to watch.
So, yes. We move a lot. Though mostly together, because things have to be done, and new knowledge has to be uncovered. I do sometimes want to just sit and let him go at it alone, but Gus never seems to want to stay behind far behind.
So who is running whom ragged?