A question has been circling in my mind lately. How do babies get their energy?
At nine months old, my kid cruises around non-stop.
I’m simultaneously impressed and exhausted. He started crawling, but before we finished celebrating that milestone, he pulled himself up on the furniture. Standing is even more fun than crawling. And what he lacks in balance, he more than makes up for in confidence.
He lets go of the coffee table or sofa, and he’s surprised every time he falls over. I want that kind of confidence. No matter how many times he falls, he tries again minutes later, firmly believing that he will succeed this time.
He crashes to the ground so often that, “uh oh,” is the first word he has clearly and intentionally said.
Every corner, from coffee tables to bookshelves, suddenly looks sharper and more dangerous than ever before. Do I bubble wrap the kid or the house?
If I dare to get my fingers anywhere near his little hands, he grabs on and uses me as his own personal walker.
I try to explain to him that he has an old mom. Maybe if I’d had him in my 20s, I could hunch over and walk him the miles and miles and miles he wants to travel. But since I’m well into my 30s, after five minutes in the crouched position, I’m fantasizing about massages and chiropractors.
And he’s not only getting more confident and mobile, but he’s also getting more opinionated about everything.
Most of our friends who have kids, had them at least a few years before we did. So we’ve had the privilege of front-row seats to our future. Sometimes it’s a heartwarming tale. Other times it’s a horror story.
One of my friends who has a toddler said the “threenager” phase is very real. At the end of the day, she’s so exhausted that when her kid goes to bed, instead of getting anything done or even watching television, she just stares at the wall for a while before going to bed herself.
But no one warned me about the strong opinions of a nine-month-old.
If he wants to walk while holding your fingers and you put him down because if you go any longer you may never stand up straight again, he’ll scream.
