Here you'll find current musings, as well as the archives from two blogs of yesteryear: YoungMarriedMom and What I Learned While Writing a Novel. Please comment and share. We love well when we are in conversation with one another.
I’ve said before that Jacob is the happiest and most relaxed person I have ever met. He is also the most active. Unless something really holds his attention or he’s sleeping he does not sit still for more than three seconds, tops. I imagine all kids at his stage of development are pretty all over the place, but still I think he must be at the top of his class in this regard.
People often give the impression that once a baby starts crawling, his parents’ lives are essentially over. And it’s true that I need to pay a lot more attention when he’s playing on his own on the floor, because there are a couple of things I can’t figure out how to babyproof that, of course, he loves to play with. I can’t blame him, though, because the printer is shiny and just at his level and the stroller wheels are pretty fascinating, especially from his perspective. I don’t think there’s a need to eat the dirt off of them, but that’s just one of many ways the little guy and I differ.
As much energy as it takes, there are a number of things that I love about Jacob’s crawling. First of all, he can decide where he wants to go, and it’s great fun when that’s somewhere I am. I love that I can go in the kitchen or down the hall to his room and call out, “Come on, buddy,” and he’ll often come with me. It’s even better when he chooses to follow me all on his own. His transit is always accompanied with a giant smile that warms my heart. And sometimes he crawls into my lap, which gives me what I officially deem the greatest feeling on earth.
The funnier thing is when his attention is diverted from the toy he’s playing with: he’ll drop the toy and reach his arms over it, but not lift his legs over it. This results in dragging toys and books across the room, which is downright silly.
Crawling also means that when I take pictures of him, I get series like this:
What’s not to love?
Keeping perspective in parenting is a strange and complicated thing: before Jacob could crawl, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to see him master these motor skills and have so much coordination. Now, I can’t imagine him not being able to support his head or sit up. I still can’t imagine what it will be like when he’s a teenager sitting at the kitchen table after school scarfing down food and doing his homework, but I know that before I can bat an eye, he’ll be beyond that and taking the world by storm.
Things are changing more quickly every day, and I love watching it all happen. Being a parent means having the best seat in the house for the most amazing story in the world.