And so she wants to crawl

My baby wants to crawl. Five months old, Abby has now discovered rolling. Well she's been rolling over for sometime and being a new parent it really is something. I mean I could watch her all day just, pulling one arm around, leaning her little head over, and twisting her legs until yes she's landed on her back from her stomach or visa versa. It's like watching the Olympics. Watching an athlete moving precisely to get from one place to another. I could do it so easily and really I never roll around on the floor, that it seems so foreign to me. Watching her is like watching a master make something you've never seen before. I'm fascinated.

It was just 9 or so years ago when a friend had called me to say that her son had rolled over and I said, "Well roll him back over." Big deal I thought. But as soon as Abby did it. Big deal, I thought!! I threw my arms up in the air in triumphant victory over physics. She got a perfect 10, as if in the Olympics. And I praised her and praised her and she just smiled completely unaware of what just happened and a little upset I think.

So here five months later, I'm watching her twist her body all around and so quickly, rolling over is nothing to her anymore. I don't congratulate her like I did, I have to say, I just more stand in amazement. It used to be that I'd lie Abby down on the floor in her room, give her a toy, say I'll be right back, and head off to finish my breakfast, or get the diapers, or something. I'd come back and there she'd be, right there, yes, she hadn't moved, not an inch, just licking her plastic ball. But now, I lie her down, give her a toy or her book she can squish and eat, walk out, come back and there she is, on the other side of the room, up against the wall, pulling on the drapes?!

It's as if there were magic happening in my house. I mean real magic, like poltergeist the movie. You leave the room, turn back around and there the dining room chairs are all up on the table. For a moment, scary. I stand there with half a smile on my face, perplexed. "How'd you get over there," I ask? She ignores me and sucks on the curtain. Or she smiles at me as if, you'll never know.

But now, oh, she's just not satisfied with rolling herself around. No, no. Just as I'm just not happy with this old cellphone and I keep eyeing that IPhone everyone has, she's not wanting to roll. She wants to crawl. Oh, that toy in the box today sitting in the living room that we hadn't given her yet was looking good. Completely board with her Mozart playing - safari animal play mat with hanging monkey, bird, and giraffe, she looked over, saw the colorful box and turned her body right for it. She was off. Here she comes. Reaching, stretching, groaning, kicking and she moved nada, not one inch. For ten minutes. Well she might of moved an inch. Simply by shear desire and maybe the reaching, but really she got no where.

"Abby why don't you just roll. You are so good at it," I thought. No, she leaned side to side, growling at the box, roaring at the box. Was she upset? Was she frustrated? Was she crying? It was hard to tell, she had moments of rest, then jumped right back into it and still got no closer really. But I loved watching her, she's pushing herself up and putting her head down and kicking her legs and I guess it's just this whole first time puzzle of the human brain and body that's so fascinating to me. She's growing and growing up, almost five months now. Where did the months go?

It's like she's been here for years and yet, it was just this year, a few months ago, she was inside her mama's tummy. Crawl, baby, crawl. I move her legs and push them forward and help her or hold my hand near her feet so she can push forward, not really crawling but scooting toward the box. I want her to get it and then I hear, "keep her down as long as possible." "I'm telling you, man, as soon as she can walk, that's it, having a sit down anything is over, your life is over," some people say. I don't know though, I'm excited. I can't wait for her to hold my hand and walk on the beach together letting the water hit our feet and drawing pictures in the sand.

I know we need to baby proof, but her walking out of her room, rubbing her eyes, and stepping up into my arms for a hug will just about crush me. So crawl baby, crawl. You can do it.