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

The Adventure Begins Very Early on the Morning of July 15th

Note: In-N-Out is the first place I go when I arrive back in California. The California chain tastes like coming home. My day had been planned. I was going to walk with friends. Have coffee with my mom and a phone date in the evening. Followed by my husband asking, “what should we have for dinner.” And me responding “In-n-Out.” I’ll admit it I did exercise in hopes of expediting the labor process, but as I had been told, “babies will come when they will.” So I laid my plans: Plan A the aforementioned walk etc. and Plan B— Have a baby. When my mom arrived, full of more energy than I’m used to her having (a contrast with my labored lack of energy), it was apparent that Plan B was in effect. We were most definitely not going to coffee. I was going to have a baby. Labor… it’s not fun. Epidurals… they are a wonderful invention. It was late evening. I’d hoped they’d let me push on the 14 th . The history nerd in me was caught by the idea of having a baby on Bastille D...
1 comment
Read more

The Bicycle Onsie is too Small!!

The fabric stretched around Felicity’s little feet and nestled her in a perfect fit. It was the first time I’d put Felicity in a onesie with feet. Up until then, she wore t-shirt onesies that snapped around her diaper. They were light and perfect for the hot summer days. But when nighttime came, Felicity liked to be cuddled and the footsie onsie was the perfect solution. Up until now, all Felicity’s clothes flopped and folded around Felicity’s tiny, baby body. She swam in the extra fabric. This onsie was snug and it fit like it was made for her. She’d wave her little legs and arms and the white fabric with little bicycles printed across its surface stretched with her. I loved putting her into it. Then something happened. It didn’t take long…maybe a couple of weeks. The bicycle onesie was washed following a diaper explosion and the cotton cloth shrunk. But just a little. Felicity’s cheeks and limbs became rounder and her eyes wider. She watched the ceiling fan and figured o...
Post a Comment
Read more

Slaying Giants

Days like this begin when the night before I choose not to sleep, because I must read a few more lines from some news site or scroll one last time through the glowing screen of my iPhone instead of making good on my resolve to read quality literature and journal prior to bed. They continue when I wake up earlier than usual to teach, but finish teaching to realize that my children also went to bed later then they should. So now, everyone’s patience operates like feet hitting a wet spot on a wood floor. Bam. You loose traction. And first one then another is upset and done. That tantrum sparked another melt-down from someone else, and as I try to not join the melt-downs, and instead attempt to be the adult I hazard some words of explanation.  “Your choices impact us all.” I tell one of them.  My children’s choice do change the tenor of the room for good or for ill, but so do my choices. On days of this sort, where nothing is really wrong, other than a strong case of the grumpies...
Post a Comment
Read more