Keeping up with the Junior Joneses

I was enjoying a post-workout coffee with the women from my Stroller Fit aerobics class the other day, when one of the mothers asked me if Milo had started sucking his toes yet.

I shook my head, alarmed. "No. Not at all."

I searched the other woman's eyes for the slightest hint of surprise at my negative response. Her son is just a couple of weeks older than mine. And he sucks his toes.

How long had he been sucking his toes? I wondered but did not ask. Was toe-sucking one of those developmental milestones that all babies were supposed to reach by the time they hit a certain age? Was Milo close to that age -- or had he already passed it?

I always vowed I wouldn't do this.

Of course all babies develop differently and acquire skills at their own individual pace. Duh. That's so obvious. All babies are unique, and are interested in exploring different abilities according to their own experiences and natural inclinations. The fact that a baby learns to crawl at eight months instead of six months, say, or figures out how to talk at ten months but doesn't walk until the fifteen-month mark doesn't have any bearing whatsoever on his or her later physical or intellectual development. That's what all the books say, and therefore, it must be true.

Take a look at Einstein, for example. He didn't talk until he was three years old. But when he finally did start talking, he spoke in full sentences.

When I was pregnant, I promised my unborn child that I would never impose upon him or her the kind of horribly unrealistic expectations I tend to set for myself. I know what it's like to feel like a failure for not getting 100% on an exam. That's not something Milo ever needs to know.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

And yet, whenever I hear other mothers mention a skill their babies have acquired that Milo has yet to master, my chest tightens a wee bit. I can't help but worry why Milo hasn't learned that particular skill yet. What does it mean? How will it affect his future? And how am I to blame?

Is it because of my genes, or something I ingested back in my carefree days of youthful indiscretion? Or is it because of something I'm doing now?

Have I not been talking to Milo enough or playing with him enough? Am I not providing him with a suitably stimulating environment? Or am I simply expecting too much of him?

Yep. I suppose that'd be the one.

Sometimes I forget to relax and enjoy my baby for who he is now and get way too caught up in worrying about who he's going to become. Thankfully, those moments never last too long. Whenever I get lost in my fretful musings, Milo always pulls me back to the present with a squawk or a shriek or a coo. I look at him and he stares back at me, wide-eyed, sticking out his tongue or sucking furiously on his lower lip, and I just have to laugh.

After all, this isn't about me, here, it's about Milo. And Milo is simply perfect at being Milo. That's more than good enough for me.