Walking around the problem

I spend a few minutes today pretty much like I do every other day since about mid-February wondering if this will be the day my daughter begins to walk. See, she's on her way to being 15 months old and still, despite five months of walking by scaling furniture, a pant leg, or a plastic car, she's not actually walking by the power of her own two legs.

Fifteen different people have told me fifteen different things about why this is an okay thing. I'm sure they do this only to cheer me up while secretly questioning my parenting approach. I've been told it's actually better for her to crawl later because it will make her a better reader/writer. Something about left hand/right leg, cross-brain functionality. That did reassure me. Until my mom told me I was walking during my 10th month.

Soooo, either my writing skills aren't as good as I think, or I'm questioning that belief. Other people tell me it just means I don't have to chase her around all over the place. Umm, based on the way she crawls I can't imagine that will save me too much time. I'm already chasing her all over the place. And besides, when she was little, she had all these great milestones to talk about. Now, not so much. I mean I could regale you with tales of of our excitement when she slept in until 7 am this morning, but that's not thrilling.

I guess I just figured she would be walking already, and it's freaking me out. Much like I freak out that our 'reading' sessions consist of her turning pages frantically and whining after 90 seconds. Or when she devours a dinner that seems twice the amount I think she should eat, I stress about childhood obesity. We've already got her hooked on french fries. Ugh. Or the fact that she waves sporadically, can't say 'hi' yet, or won't roll a ball to me. Really, I just fret and worry. Constantly.

The other day I joked with a friend that she may never walk. I might need to teach her how to wheel herself around on a skateboard or something. You know, trying to make light of a situation that is really beginning to trouble me. Parenting.com assures me that anything up to 18 months is all fine and good. Which should comfort me, but darnit, this is MY sweet, little precious girl. I want to watch her toddle around the room and come teetering to me.

Jillian claims I just want her to walk so I can FINALLY stick a golf club and tennis racquet in her hand, and well, I can't argue with that. But it's not just for those reasons. Her daycare said normally they would begin the transition from the infant room to the toddler room for kids her age, but they won't until she's walking. Great. Another example of how she's behind 'normal.'

This rant is entirely my issue, and not hers. I know that. But if I'm freaking out about this stuff now, how am I going to handle the bigger issues down the road? Now I'm beginning to understand why there's so many prescription medications that 'normalize' people. It's their children that make them that way.