Those Little Crawling Bastards
I know that in earlier posts I admitted to constantly comparing Silas to other babies. Generally fictitious babes or those in memoirs, like Sam in Operating Instructions. But, you see, at that time I was only speaking in jest. Well, mostly. Of course, I thought of Silas as the Supreme Being of all Babes. But, still, I think I managed to keep my competitiveness to a minimum. Until now. This damned crawling business is starting to make me feel like one of those child pageant moms and I want Silas to have the best baton twirling act… or else! It’s just that all the other parents are just so damn smug.
Okay, that’s not really true. Yes, a few parents are reporting on their baby’s progress with a bit of a glint in their eye. But I don’t think anyone is stitching up a set of blue ribbon Underoos just yet. The problem, yet again, may lie with me. How many times have I mentioned that I might just be one of those freaky, controlling, nothings good enough for my Silas, kind-of moms. It’s like I’m two steps from the mother I saw on Lifetime that turned her six year old into Super Boy by making him drink egg yolks and take steroids and lift the backs of trucks with his bare hands.
(After reading my last post, you probably think I’m serious. Please note that I am often– but not always– dripping with hyperbole in order to make my point.)
Okay, I want Silas to be on the top of the heap! And if another competitive God Father or uncle or cousin or father tells me that army crawling REALLY fast is not actually crawling and that Silas needs to “catch up”, I’m not responsible for what I might do.
I mean we all want to pretend that we’re not doing it– comparing our kid to other kids. Feeling glib if they’ve done something first. Feeling frantic if they haven’t learned it yet. And we all say out loud and to ourselves “well, you know every baby develops differently” but we don’t actually believe that crap. And, we obsess about even the smallest things– things that don’t matter– like teeth and poop and who has a taste for banana. It’s bizarre. It’s even more bizarre because we’re the types of parents who pride ourselves on being all open and liberal and Montessori. We’re about happiness and love and finding your own path. We’re not about who likes to hold their bottle for themselves. (Yes, yes, I bragged about that one… I am a candidate for therapy. Or rather, more therapy.)
So, this whole post stems from my utterly tactless inquisition into the life my sister’s fiance’s neice– a baby I have never met. Yes, yes, yes, she’s crawling with her chubby, angelic little belly off the ground. And, let’s face it, I’m pissed!
In theory I despise this type of thinking. As a teacher, I find it to be one of the single most distasteful and disgusting things about the public school system. The categorizing. The grouping. The competing. And here I am having to escape to the deck with a beer because Silas is an army crawler and not a traditional crawler.
That is just plain stupid.
So, what next?
I imagine I should bring this up in therapy or at least write myself a letter promising to just friggin’ drop it. Because Silas is almost 8 months old and my behavior is about to start having a profound affect on his psyche and that’s a scary thing.
So, a toast, to all you moms of babes that can crawl with their belly up off the ground. I salute you. I really do. Just don’t expect me to be happy about it if you give me one of those fakey-fake nouveau riche kind-of smiles. Because I know exactly what you’re up to. Oh yes, yes, I do.
May 18th, 2008 at 8:43 am
well, i, for one, refuse to believe silas is doing any kind of crawling, on knees, belly, or face. he simply is not old enough to be doing anything of the sort. and he’d better have that peaceful newborn look on his face when i hold him next.
May 21st, 2008 at 4:56 pm
I remember when you were sitting in Silas’ room stocked with old battle of the books books and you picked up Artemis Fowl and you said, “You know Corey, I see him growing up to be like this.” I still giggle thinking about it. Which is really sad if you think about it for a minute. I don’t understand why Silas isn’t crawling yet! I was crawling from the moment I poped out of the womb (that was marinated, pan-seared, and then lightly sprinkled in sarcasm)! I’m no expert on babies but he’ll crawl when he wants to crawl… but it’s so fun to listened to your paranoid and wonderfully written rants.
Miss you!