At nine and a half months old, Margot is mastering new skills each day. She loves to clap her hands, say “yeah yeah yeah” (thank you, “I’m Still Standing” from “Sing”), and eat Puffs one piece at a time in her high chair.
But there’s a milestone that fills me with pride and dread all at once: mobility. Although Margot isn’t interested in traditional crawling, she’s perfectly content to roll herself across a room, pivot on her tummy, and change directions. In the last month, mobility has completely changed the game. I’m ready to put a bell on her.
For a few glorious weeks, Margot could sit unassisted at her activity mat and play with her toys and would. Not. Move. Need to unload the dishwasher? Set Margot down with her toys. Grabbing the laundry to fold?Set Margot down with her toys. Quick Mama bathroom break? Set Margot down with her toys.
Those all-too-brief, sweet days are over. After getting bored, Margot now leans herself forward, gets her legs free from beneath her, and she’s on the move.
What is it about babies that attracts them to the most dangerous parts of the house? I’ve watched Margot drawn to an outlet on the wall like a moth to a flame. The baskets full of Legos and toys with menacingly little pieces underneath the coffee table? Talk about a magnetic pull. Playing with the legs of the side table? Fine holiday fun.
It’s been a minute since Stella was this age, so it’s difficult to say whether or not I’ve blocked out the months between sitting quietly and being able to walk. But I don’t remember her getting into so much mischief. It’s safe to say that Margot is quite literally keeping me on my toes.
This second time around, it has become even clearer to me that each stage has its rose and its thorns.
It’s wonderful to reminisce about being able to cuddle a newborn Margot on the couch as she slept in my arms or setting her down for a moment to do something around the house. But then I remember the exhausting long nights, the swaddling and the rocking and the inability to go anywhere on my own for more than an hour or two before needing to be back home.
Although Margot’s increased mobility has forced us back into major baby-proofing mode — and boy is that a whole new ball game when you add a four-year-old’s toys into the mix — I’m reminded with each day that there are also so many upsides to this stage.
Margot is learning to play independently and also loves to play with her big sister. She’s old enough to be drinking milk from a cup if necessary, which is such a break for me after months of not taking bottles. She’s eating a good variety of foods, which is fun for her and, say it with me again, such a break for me. So in that way, I’ll take the added anxiety of Margot’s growing independence, because in some ways it is leading to an independence of my own, even if it’s just for a girls’ dinner or a much-needed haircut appointment.
Our little roly poly’s mobility has opened up a whole new world of worry, and I’m equally wishing this anxious time will move more quickly and desperately trying to hold on to this silly, inquisitive, so-curious-about-everything-that-she’ll-stick-anything-in-her-mouth-even-though-it-makes-me-nervous phase.
So for now I’ll enjoy the rolling and backwards, moonwalk crawl, and hope the baby gate phase holds it horses.