Now that he can pull himself up using furniture, the little monster only wants to stand. Or look at the wires that hang from a ceiling socket. Nothing else. He just (and I do mean just) did his first furniture transfer by himself, going from using the coffee table to the couch for support.
Right now, he's in his playpen, which he actually likes and wanted to go in. Which brings me to the plan.
Yesterday, he was standing against the coffee table, letting go with one hand and reaching for the couch. He couldn't quite reach, so eventually he started growling and shouting "Mum, mum!" until I helped him to the couch. Then he jumped up and down and looked meaningfully at me, then tried to climb the couch like stairs. He's tall, but he's not that tall, so I helped him again. He crawled along the couch to the arm (the playpen is against the couch), put his hands on the playpen and then screamed at me ("Mum! Mum! Mama! Mum!"*) until I put him in the playpen. Then he was super happy.
I just can't get over the fact that he decided he wanted to go in the playpen, came up with a 3 part plan and executed it.
I'm always so torn at moments like this. On the one hand, I'm so happy that he's smart and happy and developing so well, and on the other hand, I'm kind of thinking, stay a baby, damn it. People warn you about how fast it all goes, but I don't think most of us really get it until we're there.