It was inevitable.  The Smush Monster is spending more time on two legs than four now.  She began her bipedal trundle over a month ago, and as with all things Smushie, she bulldozed over toys, insects, and sometimes brother, with little regard to their respective muffled screams beneath her pudgy, sweaty feet.

If you recall, months ago I was overwhelmed with the idea that my little girl NEEDED to walk as soon as possible.  With her walking, I could lessen my burden by about 25 lbs and free up an arm or two for carrying other things (or just letting them sway in the breeze like normal people do).  So I put Smush through a sort of baby boot camp with pushups, wheelbarrows, squats, and situps.  She added strength, stamina, and muscle to her chubby and ‘oh so cuddly’ little body.  But, my efforts have recently turned into more of an exercise for me than for she.  (I know it’s supposed to say ‘her’, but ‘she’ rhymes with ‘me’ and I like it!)

I thought I’d eventually take both my kids for leisurely strolls in the park, free from the three-wheeled BOB that limits our mobility, flexibility, and creativity.  We’d play with the freedom bestowed upon young minds and bodies.  (When I say ‘we’, I really mean ‘they’.  I’m getting old!)

The truth is that I’m chasing the walking version of Smushie everywhere and sacrificing my body to minimize the potential perils of her climbing up the stairs, swinging from handrails, and jumping from the curbs.  She may be physically ready to walk, but her brain isn’t quite ready to take on other functions.  Her brain power is spent doing a lot of this:   “Left foot forward.  Now, right foot forward.  Hey, a tree!  Um, which foot goes next again?  System error.  Shutting down legs.  *PLOP*

Now I’m looking into exercises that will keep Smushter from walking so quickly:  overfeeding her, tying a mini parachute to her back, binding her feet, etc.

There’s an old adage that goes “Teach a baby to talk, and you’ll get a headache.  Teach a baby to walk, and you’ll get a backache.  But teach a baby to stay in a confined place and neither cry nor try to escape, and you’ll have found nirvana.”  (No, the other nirvana.)

The real lesson for me is that I should have just let things happen on their own.  I could have allowed her mind ample opportunity to wire itself for some measure of self-preservation before her body was able to find harm’s way.  Stupid, stupid, stupid….me.  Whoops, gotta go!  I’ve got to go save her from walking straight off the stairwell…again…for the eighth time…today.

 

Smush, Now That You're Trapped, I Can Get Some Work Done! See You Tomorrow!

Smush, Now That You’re Trapped, I Can Get Some Work Done! See You Tomorrow!