Seven minutes. That's how long it takes Playground Mommy to make her move.
"He's so cute," she says, touching my son's curls. "Still not walking?" His chubby fingers clutch mine as he inches towards the swings, wobbly as a newborn foal.
"Oh, you know. He's getting there," I say, as if everyone walks around with a twenty-five-pound toddler death-gripping their thumbs. As if on cue, Owen drops to his hands and knees and speeds off, slap-slap-slapping across the filthy playground flooring.
"He's a big boy," Playground Mommy says. "How old?"
"Thirteen months."
"Thirteen months?!" she says, eyes wide. "He's huge!"
That's true . . . except for the "thirteen months" part. My son is actually seventeen months old, but you'll never hear it from me, at least not at the playground.
Yes, I know it's nuts. As a reasonably intelligent, Birkenstock wearing, "Every child develops differently" type of gal, I always assumed I'd be Captain Awesome when it came to raising my own kid. I pictured myself surrounded by a crew of happy, tow-headed tots, each secure in the knowledge that they were special Just The Way They Are. But all that flew out the window when faced with a gaggle of playground parents whose ten-month-olds were running laps around my older son.
At first I didn't think too much of it. The babe had always been a little slow with the physical stuff, but I figured it was genetic. His dad and I veer toward the "readerly" side of the athletic spectrum, so it made sense that he'd rather thumb through Goodnight Moon than run a 5K. But then it started. The looks. The tsks. The well-meaning advice from people whose charges were walking — running! — at twelve or nine or even seven months.
Within weeks I'd heard it all: Buy him sturdier shoes. Buy him comfortable shoes. Make him walk everywhere. (He's only crawling because you're not putting your foot down.) Don't let him watch television. Tempt him with treats. One ancient grandmother-type recommended that I tie a scarf under his armpits and march him around the playground like a puppet.
I've found myself considering it.
To read the rest of this article, go to babble.
