My sister texted me about my almost-ten-month-old nephew, who has apparently entered a tiny-mobile-ninja era. All normal baby chaos, but stressful for her: Army crawling with the speed of light. Attempting to pull objects atop his head. Beelining for escape routes. Trying to eat the dog’s bone and splash in his water bowl. She said "I'm not ready for this stage. It seemed easier last time." (Meaning my older nephew.) The gist of my reply was: You didn’t have an eight-year-old, a dog, and a...