On your hands and knees, rocking, rocking, push up on your toes, back down on your knees. Your hands don’t move, cemented to the floor, you stay in place, rocking, rocking. Any day now you’re going to figure out that moving your hands will equate to moving your whole body from point A to point B. You will crawl before Christmas. I know it. You will crawl before you can reliably sit on your own. You will crawl and that will be the end of an era, the beginning of a new type of parenting, where I chase you, I scold you, I have to work so much harder to protect you. I’ll have to start cleaning the floors regularly, vacuuming, locking cabinets, diligently remembering to shut doors, pick up crumbs. I’ll have to start saying, “no. No. NONONONONO!” “Don’t touch that!” “Don’t eat that!”
But for now, I’m thankful for the rocking. For the illusion that I still have a helpless little baby. For now.