It’s the moment he’s been waiting for all his short life — Noah can crawl! Well, more like “crawl,” if we’re being honest. He hasn’t yet mastered the idea of being up on his hands and knees and moving one hand/knee combination forward at the same time, then alternating, which, in my book, is the real deal. But nevertheless, he can transport himself all over the room with his moves. And he did it just a hair under his 7-month anniversary (is that the right word? birthday? mark?). Must be all that formula he drinks. He’s so advanced.
When I say he’s been waiting for this moment, I’m not even kidding. Ever since he was about 3 months old he has been desperately attempting to crawl. Seemed his brain was way ahead of his poor weak, baby body. He has always loved tummy time and would play for hours on his stomach raising his hands and legs off the floor, “swimming” and yelling when he realized he wasn’t moving anywhere. We tried to tell him again and again, “that’s NOT going to work. At the bare minimum, you’re going to have to put your hands or your feet on the floor.” But he disregarded and spent 3+ months futilely attempting to fly himself into a crawling motion. We positioned him, demonstrated proper crawling technique until our knees were rug-burned, positioned him again, put his beloved toys just out of reach (“Oh, I see you’re having so much fun with Sophie. Oops, looks like she ran away from you. Go get her!”), told him to watch the cat and do what she was doing, and finally begged him to just stop trying (or at least stop yelling as he tried). “It’s just not meant to be yet, bud,” I told him again and again. “Maybe we should skip this whole ‘crawling’ thing. Your legs seem pretty strong. Why don’t you just walk?”
But he persisted. And now he crawls! (ish).
Now to to the next big thing —
