Skip to main content

Girl on the Go


Who knew about strength training for little limbs? Prior to birthing my little girl, I did not know about baby exercises. But they exist! There is the bicycle for infant legs, which, you guessed it—Momma makes baby’s legs pedal in a bicycle motion. Then there is the YMCA. Yep. Sing the YMCA and make baby’s arms dance. All of these exercises were handily learned on the app for baby development. How else would millennials learn about baby growth if there weren’t an app?

But the real baby workout is Tummy Time.

Yes—Tummy Time—the time when baby is placed on tummy to begin the difficult task of holding up her neck.  Followed by the even more difficult task of head turning. The ultimate goal: Crawling. The half-way point to the ultimate goal: Flipping Over.

Anxious to give Felicity every advantage, I dutifully spread a blanket for tummy time. At first her head bobbled and dipped to grab a mouthful of blanket. Then came the quizzical eyes when she managed to turn towards momma’s voice to find—surprise, surprise—mamma! Folks, believe me, this head turning was tough work for her infant neck, and it included grimaces as if she lifted a weight. But she persisted. In fact, she more than persisted.

Imagine, mine, and her surprise, when flip. Her legs and arms kicked as she lay on her back. The look of shock in her eyes at what she’d done mirrored my own surprise. My baby flipped over.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Two Little Girls and a Bench

  It was one of those moments before dinner in which I could have easily moved into the busy rush of dinner, clean-up, and bed-time, when I was stopped in my tracks. Isabelle, with her round face, and bright eyes, and fifteen month strength, clamored onto a bench and made it apparent to me that she wanted to jump from its one foot height with the help of my hand. I obliged and a game began, a game that was immediately joined by Emmaline, her three-year old sister, who does everything with full abandon. Soon, I found myself holding two little hands as two little girls jumped off a bench in unison. What joy this moment held for them. Again. Repeat. They would have jumped as long as I allowed. Each little face starlit with the joy of leaving the earth for one brief moment in the company of one’s sister and one’s mommy.  Tonight I read in Chesterton’s Orthodoxy that, “Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want t...
Post a Comment
Read more

A Leaf

  A couple of weeks ago, I read “The Leaf by Niggle” aloud to five-year old Felicity. Since I was teaching on the story a few days later, I counted my inspiration to read-aloud as a double win towards homeschooling and teaching prep. Didn’t know that my five-year-old, would once again teach me.     Tolkien’s short story follows the life of a Niggle, a painter, who envisions a glorious tree, but only manages to paint leaves, a paltry homage to his vision. About half-way through the story Niggle is sent on a journey, presumably death. After some time in a dismal hospital and workhouse, a train takes him to a familiar green space. As he wanders, wonderingly, he discovers it. The tree. His tree.   Felicity turned to me as I read and she said with the joy of discovery in her voice,    “Mommy! Did God make his tree real?”   “Yes, Felicity. Yes, that is it. That is exactly it.”    Tolkien and Lewis both thought that fairy-tales and myths, those bear...
Post a Comment
Read more

On Soup, Vices, Babies, and the End of the Day

I’m sitting eating soup and hearing phantom cries. At least, every time I jump up the baby monitor confirms that the crying is only in my head.  Today, with the rapt attention of my four-year old, I wrote a to-do list on our large kitchen chalkboard. I’m not certain if that was a good idea as the last to-do—a very large pile of laundry still looms a pants and onesies mountain or a shirts and socks field, pick your favorite metaphor of choice. But whatever your choice, it’s there.  Strewn along my bedroom floor. Waiting. (Yes, the bed would be a better place, but the baby needed nursing.)  The problem with a to-do list is that my biggest to-do, is to be with my three little ones. And really, that is not even a to-do, that is my life, my calling.  The other problem with a to-do list is that tasks sometimes seem to stand in the way of just being, a woman, a mother, striving by the grace of God to grow in virtue, to model said virtue so that the little soul...
Post a Comment
Read more