And so it begins again...
I've lost count of the number of "he/she's crawling!" posts I've seen on Facebook in the last couple of weeks. I had over 30 Facebook friends all pregnant at the same time I was expecting Turkey, and since they're all between 7 and 10 months, the mobility posts have taken over.
And once again, I calculate how much younger they are than my child. Who is not crawling. Who is not rocking on her hands and knees. Who can't even stay on her hands and knees if you put her there. Who can't get from lying to sitting. But who will let you know very loudly if she wants to be sitting and is stuck on her tummy.
The pulling up posts are also starting to pile up. Me? Well, I haven't even dropped the crib down yet. She's able to reach over her head and pull, and she's working towards being able to pull onto her knees, but we're not there yet.
It is natural for parents to brag about their baby, share their accomplishments, post adorable pictures of the newly developed skills. And I enjoy seeing them. I really do. I rejoice with them. It is exciting to watch your child go from stuck in one place to being on the move.
But once again, I find myself identifying more with special needs parents. I find myself going to the blogs of special needs moms for encouragement.
In a way, I feel like this is demeaning to those who truly have special needs kids. What my family has is nothing compared to them. We have no feeding tubes, no list of surgeries to perform, no wheelchairs or walkers or braces. No ventilators. Yet I find myself drawn to them. They understand the worry, the fear, the "is she ever going to get this?" They understand the looks you get when you tell someone your child can't do something their child has been doing for 4 months. They understand the feeling of failure you get when you reach the developmental milestones portion of the well child exam. They understand the self-doubt, the "what did I do or not do to cause this?" The "should I not have eaten that cold cut sandwich at Subway in my 4th month?"
Thankfully, Turkey is so little that for the most part, I'm still being asked in the nursery "can she sit up?" They think of her as ~6 months. With Ladybug, she was chunky enough that she looked her age or older, which made the questions start sooner. And no one means anything by the questions. It's just usual conversation material for baby mamas. But when you constantly feel like you're behind the curve, it can get uncomfortable. I logged onto babycenter to update a few people on the status of Ladybug's ultrasound, and I saw a ton of posts on potty training. We have a child's potty. Somewhere. I have no idea where. And I haven't even thought to look for it because we don't need it. I know some would say it's early to potty train, and that may be, but there sure are a lot of folks doing it.
Ah well... this is part of motherhood I never thought I'd encounter. I suppose I thought my children would be perfect, and I would be perfect, and we would have this beautiful, right on schedule or a little early family. Complete with the white picket fence. With cookies cooling on the stove and everything put away but a few classic toys. With clean faces and nice clothes, mom included. And the perfect dog and cat who never climbed the screens or deposited dead birds on the porch, who never chew up a cloth diaper and eat the poop that was on it.
Yeah, right. I guess I'm getting my reality check.