This Is My Third Kid. Why Am I So Worried?
If I’d written this as intended two months ago, I would have been flipping out. My kid is six months old and can’t figure out how to roll from her stomach onto her back! She’s going to have to be in PT just like her older brother! I’m sick of therapy appointments interfering with nap time!
She’s eight months now, and yes, she’s rolling. So much so that she actually helped me achieve an unofficial-yet-real Huffman child milestone: I lost her in the house for a second. (As it turns out, she’d managed to get half of her body under the far side of the loveseat in the guest bedroom. The rest of her was obscured by a perfectly-positioned pillow. I’m still not sure how she got into that position in the first place.)
Of course, now that she’s rolling like mad, my mind automatically moves to the next thing she’s not doing: creeping. Crawling, I know, is still a long way off for her, but she’s been rolling for a month now, and can also sit independently, albeit supervised (and she definitely can’t get herself there yet). She’s finally to the point where she doesn’t mind being on her belly, but if she could just figure out how to wiggle her butt and reach for toys, then…
Well, then what, exactly? Then I’ll be worried that she’s not pushing herself up onto her hands and knees. Then I’ll be worried that she’s not crawling. Then I’ll be worried that she’s not pulling herself up, not bearing weight on her legs. Then, eventually, I’ll find myself worrying about a four-year-old who — yes — can walk, talk, run, and jump, but can’t stand on one leg, and that’s what the milestone charts says she should be able to do, darn it.
Yes, my kid is behind in gross motor. It’s a fact. But is it as dire as my mind is making it out to be? This is my third child, for heaven’s sake. I should know how babies operate by now.
What I’m saying is this. It’s a double-edged sword, this age of information we live in. If I’d been raising these kids a century ago, would I be comparing them to neighbor Doreen’s kids? I actually don’t know the answer to that question. As it is now, I find myself continually looking at the Ages and Stages questionnaires for each of my kids, evaluating what they’re behind in and what they’re actually pulling ahead in. My 4-year-old is miserably behind in fine motor. The kid just isn’t interested in any sort of writing or drawing. But you know what he can do? Put together 60-piece puzzles and follow Lego instructions with minimal supervision. My 2-year-old is nearing a full year of being in speech therapy, and is still difficult to understand. But she was potty trained by the time she hit two, and is actually surpassing her brother in swimming lessons. And the baby? No, she’s not bearing weight or anywear near to crawling. But she can suck food from a pouch, and yesterday I caught her batting at the rattle on her play gym with a hairbrush. Now that is a brilliant baby.
The point here is that each kid is different — each kid is not a robot who achieves milestones on a predictable trajectory. It’s a tough lesson to remember, especially in the early months when babies are essentially just drooly little potatoes. The baby will crawl when she’s ready, my middle will speak clearly when she gets older, and my oldest will someday put his head under the water during swim class. But it’s up to them to decide when they’ll do it. And no amount of obsessive Googling on my part will speed any of that up.
Thanks for reading the latest in my motherhood series! Come back next week (or next month, as the case may be) when I’ll talk about the next parenting thing that’s popped up. Being a mom of three is a wild ride, but I’m making it through one day at a time.
