Rowan was on the verge of crawling for what seemed like forever. I offered him words of encouragement, but I didn’t push for it as vehemently as others might. I knew as soon as he was more mobile, it would mean more time chasing Rowan around and keeping him out of trouble and less time admiring him playing in one place.
He’s been crawling for a month and a half now, and he picked up standing shortly thereafter. Long gone are the days where I could put him on the floor and expect him to stay in the same general area. Every time I turn around, he’s on the opposite side of the room from where he was before. Trying to keep up with him is pointless. Instead, I park myself in the middle of whichever room he’s playing in and keep watch that way.
This arrangement works out well (for the most part). Rowan can cause mischief and mayhem with mom close—but not too close. The idea is to give him enough space to assert his independence and encourage his inquisitiveness but be near enough to swoop in when necessary.
Which is how it goes most of the time. But let’s be honest—accidents happen. A drawer you think is childproofed isn’t … and a finger gets pinched. A glass of water is out of reach (until your child grows over night) … and then it’s on the floor. He’s standing with assistance just fine … and then he keels over. Life with a fledgling toddler has taught me that you have to be one step ahead of him at all times, both literally and figuratively.
By this point, someone’s probably called DFCS on me. But I’ll admit something else, because I know I can’t be alone: bruises pop up on Rowan’s shins like crazy ever since he started crawling. When I first noticed them, I wracked my brain over how he could have gotten them without me realizing it earlier. Then I remembered he’s a 10-month-old boy who does nothing but crawl and stand and cruise, and these things are unavoidable.
For now I’ve got to run—either DFCS is at the door or Rowan just knocked something over.