Oh How I Wish I Could Crawl Now

Lilah will be 9 months old on Friday and she still can not crawl.  She didn't achieve tummy time without screaming until 3 weeks ago and although she is now scooting around backwards, she still cant figure out how to get her knees up under her hips.  Her legs always fall out and she ends up plop on the floor and then cries in frustration, not being able to get where she wants to go.  This means she is technically, a bit behind.  Technically, she should not only be crawling, but also pulling up on things by her self.  I try not to let myself get caught up in the game of comparing to other babies but I simply cant help it.

This is just like when she was a newborn and I obsessed constantly about her sleep patterns, desperately hoping to find some mystery formula that would end her colic and get her to behave like the babies in the sleep books.  In the end, time was the only solution and now (knock on wood) she sleeps better than average, often not requiring any attention from me until almost 8AM.  Perhaps this will be the same; she who crawls and walks last will be a future winner of Olympic gold. Plus, she is right on track with her fine motor skills and her verbal skills.  Last week she even learned how to say Mama though she doesn't know what it means. 

Maybe the truth behind all this worrying and comparing is that I am afraid of any sign that something might be wrong with her.  That being late to crawl, play on her tummy and know night from day are actually glimpses of something much worse to come.  I will love her regardless of what she faces in life, but what about her life?  Life on its own is difficult enough with out any of the other bullshit our bodies and brains might throw at us.  As her mother, I see her as perfect in every way (I suppose that will change when she leaves her wet towels on the bathroom floor and grunts at me when I ask her how her day was) but the rest of the world is not kind and ever-loving like a mother.  I am concerned about her being normal because I am afraid of how the world will treat her if she is not.  This fear is, of course, unfounded based on the evidence present today.  But thats not really the point.  Its not that being late to hit a random milestone is realistically a cause for concern, its that observing that she is different from most in this case opens the door to the secret places inside myself where I keep all my hope and dreams for her and that is complicated and very emotional.

For now, we will continue to do our tummy time and spend a lot of time around other babies.  And as a hedge, we will keep working on walking.  Though she doesn't pull up by herself, if you stand her up against a piece of furniture she will hold on and keep standing!  Who needs crawling after all...