Tectonic toddler

Well, I saw my son last night after all. At 10:30 and again at 11:40, when he woke up with his throat on fire, feverish, crying, head stuffier than a Delta flight. I was able to rock him back to sleep on my lap as he switched one side of the head or the other onto my chest. He was up again at 1:45, but I was in unsuccessfully trying to get Erin back down to sleep then. Mommy to the rescue yet again.
She was able to get him in to see a nurse, who diagnosed in technical terms something called a 'bad head cold.' And ruled out strep. He was in better spirits when I got home, though still sniffing and snuffing like a hippo. His mother on the other hand, was zombieing around sounding like Isaac Hayes, and went to bed almost immediately after I arrived.
I fed the two mites, then got them into the tub, Erin kicking and splashing away, Ryan trying to remember the names of his foam dinosaurs. I got Erin out, dried, and dressed for bed while Ryan soaked some more, then brought her in and put her on the floor next to the musical Russian churches box she seems to enjoy, while turning to get Ryan to gingerly apply a soapy sponge to his bad road rash owies on his legs. It then occurred to me that Erin was a good 18 inches closer to me than where I'd put her.
"Do that again!" I told her, so of course she wouldn't.
But later, she was right back up next to Ryan getting dried on the toilet, when I had distinctly put her about a yard away in the center of the carpet.
So she's not crawling, but has got a good butt scoot going, there.