So . . . here is something I have put off writing down:
The baby is still not walking.
Every month I tell myself it will be this month. I was sure she would be walking by Thanksgiving. And then Christmas. And then by 17 months.
When the baby was sick over the break and we took her in to see the Dr, she very calmly told me that if the baby was not by 18 months we would “need to have a chat”. This really freaked me out.
The thing is, I don’t really know babies. I don’t pay attention to them very much, and only have vague notions about what is age appropriate (even during her newborn days, I thought all one-year-olds could walk and speak in sentences). So stuff doesn’t really worry me until we are out with other babies, and I think: Hmmmm. My baby can’t do that.
This only takes up a small portion of my brain. Because the baby is learning new things every day. She is whip smart, opinionated, already into pushing boundaries (mostly related to meal times and throwing food around like it is her job). She likes to laugh, and whine dramatically, and even plays pretend. She makes up her own signs for words she can’t pronounce. She is obsessed with stars, and can spot them in advertisements or books faster than I can.
But she doesn’t walk. She scoots around on her knees, and tries standing every now and again, but for the most part she hasn’t shown a whole lot of interest in the thing. We are starting to get to the point where it is hard to lug her 22 lb body everywhere, and I know she would be happier if she could run around.
But waiting seems to be a part of our life right now, in all things big and small. So here’s to waiting with grace, and hope, and perspective on the bigger picture.