Little A has been doing downward-facing dog poses over and over again for the past month, jack knifing her sweet butt high in the air and then hanging frozen, not knowing what to do with her arms and legs next. As a result, my normally mellow baby has been pretty cranky.
"Momma, do something, Little A is upset!" Big A would say as her sister keened pathetically on the rug between us, having assumed the push-up position yet again.
"Let's wait and see if she figures it out this time," I would answer. And then Little A would hang there rigidly until either her arms or her patience gave out. The whining would switch to angry shrieks, which always prompted me to pick the baby up for a snuggle and put off the lesson until later.
It is fascinating to see that moment when a baby's attempts to move go from trial and error to something systematic. On Sunday, Little A finally realized she could back herself up into a sitting position when lying on her belly. She'd done it by accident many times, but now she delightedly sat up and laid down dozens of times, lunging and squirming around the floor in big sloppy arcs in the process.
She still tends to move backwards more often than forward, and she expends as much energy traveling twelve inches as I do going five yards. But every day Little A gets stronger and more efficient and more into everything.
God help us, but toddlerhood is right around the corner!