Cari emailed me on a subject dear to my own heart: worrying about baby development and milestones.

I know that you have mentioned before that your children were a little slow to reach their developmental milestones. My baby is 11 months old and is still not crawling. She rolls over and has excellent direction; and she has just started getting up on her hands and knees and rocking, but no crawling; and for sure no pulling up or standing. She has a few sounds, but no consistent words like mama or dada.

I’m wondering at what point I should start being concerned. (Well, more concerned than the near-constant mommy-worry that we all have.) She has been behind from the start in her gross motor skills, so I’m not extraordinarily surprised that she is where she is, but people are asking about it more often and I don’t really know how to address it. I don’t really feel like I need to address it to randoms who ask; but it is on my mind.

I know that babies develop at their own rates, but I guess I’m looking for reassurance that she really is okay and that others have been in similar situations.

Indeed, my kids have been “late end of normal” in their development. In a group of babies, my baby would be the one lying there like an enormous larva while the other babies skittered all over the floor.

Rob didn’t crawl until he was 12 months old. Elizabeth didn’t walk until she was 17 months old—and if she’d done it 2 days later, I would have had to say 18 months old. At 7.5 months, Henry has rolled over maybe a dozen times and never on purpose. NONE of my kids have been able to say as many words as they’re supposed to be able to say on baby/toddler charts. They are all late, late, late.

I’m sorry, but the only way I can give reassurance here is to bring out some serious bragging. Saying “and they’re turning out fine!” is insufficient: pretty much all parents think their children are brilliant and amazing, and for all you know my kids are drooling their way through school as I look on them fondly and tell you everything’s fine, perfectly fine! So I must say more, but I will keep it brief: on national standardized tests, Rob and William are both coming up as top of the class. Also, I’m pleased to report that both of them can walk AND talk AND roll over.

So when SHOULD you worry? Because I am a chronic worrier (ever since reading Laura Ingalls Wilder books as a child, I’ve been worried that we will be in such a terrible blizzard we will not be able to get back to the house from the barn) (we don’t have a barn, nor have I ever lived anywhere with a barn) (but if we did, I would totally have a guide rope stretching between them), I like to turn over this kind of worrying to my pediatrician. I say to him outright, “I worry about everything. But I’m not going to OFFICIALLY worry until you tell me to worry.” And about three times he’s said, “It’s not time to WORRY, but it’s time to do a little extra investigation,” and we do, and everything is fine. He says that, in general, as long as a child is continuing to make progress along the developmental timeline (even if the progress is slower and/or later than usual), everything is still fine.

I have been annoyed over the years by how SURPRISED people act at what is actually still within the normal range of development. “OH!” they say. “She’s still not WALKING?” And their eyes get darty with surprise and alarm. “What does the DOCTOR say?” Or maybe someone says, “Let’s see, 8 months–he must be crawling all over the place by now!” The prize goes as usual to my mother-in-law, who would ask if the baby was crawling yet, and then tell me AGAIN that children who crawl late tend to have learning disabilities. (Whuh? Even if this were true, why would she say so?)

And how should you deal with this sort of, um, concern? You could try hooking a leg behind the other person’s ankles and giving a sudden sharp shove, as I fantasized doing many a time. Or, you can act surprised right back at them: “Well, no! But she’s only 13 months!” (tone of voice communicates “Do you have a fever or something?”).

For people who have genuine concern rather than the faked concern designed to make you feel bad, you can say that the pediatrician says there’s a wide range of normal, and that he or she says your child is still well within that range. The words “well within” are not only comforting but also pointed: they communicate that not only is the concern unnecessary, it’s a little on the ignorant side. You can look at them pityingly, give a little laugh and say, “Don’t worry! I would tell you if there was anything wrong!” Like THEY’RE the big old worrywarts, while you yourself are laid-back and calm and definitely not lying awake at night fretting about how a larval child like yours will be able sit up at a desk.

Now. Perhaps you could chime in with your reassurances for Cari. Late bloomers who ended up fine or better than fine? (Or, sure, why not: early bloomers who ended up in prison and/or on drugs?)

The “most popular baby names of 2007” baby name list put out by Baby Center is a TOTAL SHAM. It’s based on survey results or whatevs from their readership.

The REAL list, put out by The Social Security Administration and based on birth certificates, will be out in May.

The more you know! *musical ding!*

My mom and I were already planning to go to Target today, but it was SaLy‘s report that the pink-puffy-skirted dresses were at 75% off that really put a fire under us.

The glorious pink-puffy-skirted dress, with a friend:

In fact, I bought TWO pink-puffy-skirted dresses (duplicate in larger size not shown) and a golden-skirted one. Pinks $4.48 each down from $17.99, and golden $4.98 down from $19.99.

I was really hoping to find these Model Magic sets at 75% off (last time they were at 50%), and I DID. William got a bunch of Model Magic from my parents for Christmas, and he has been using it night and day in a careful way that makes me want to buy him his weight in Model Magic—or at least keep him supplied with it. These particular sets are a stupid idea (you just smear Model Magic over plastic structures), but they come with a ton of packets of Model Magic. Even at 50% off they were a good per-ounce deal for the Model Magic; at 75% off, they’re GREAT. I’m just throwing away the plastic structures. $4.98/set, down from $19.99/set.

I didn’t know what I would DO with these cute Amy Coe nesting boxes, so I couldn’t justify buying them until they were 75% off. Each set has three boxes with lids. $3.24/set, down from $12.99/set. Probably I will keep them for a long time and then finally use them as gift boxes.

An assortment of shirts for Elizabeth for next year or maybe the year after, all 75% off. $1.24-$2.48 each, down from $4.99-$9.99 each.

Cute rain boots for Elizabeth. Paul actually takes the children outside to play in the rain, because they enjoy it and he likes doing things they enjoy, whereas I like to do things I enjoy such as staying inside warm and dry with a book and a cookie. $3.74 down from $14.99.

Pack of 2 Carter’s Just One Year sleepers for Henry, $3.74 down from $14.99. It’s too bad they’re “Just One Year,” because it’s Elizabeth who’s really into dinosaurs but these only came in sizes up to 12m.

We also stopped at JC Penney, where I found this coat for Elizabeth for next year. $7.19 down from $49.99, though I have some doubt that anyone would have paid fifty bucks for it. The colors (called “Lily/Icy”) are prettier in person. MUCH prettier. I don’t even LIKE them in the photo. Free photography tips: Use good light! And don’t use a crappy chair as your background!

At the risk of sounding like I think I’m Seinfeld (and what an easy, easy mistake it would be to make!), what is the DEAL with pillar candles? I always think, “Yay, nice big candle!,” but then the flame burns itself down into a deep narrow tunnel and drowns in melted wax. And it doesn’t look pretty doing it, either.

The greenish one is actually BULGING OUT as it burns down.

I suppose I could keep carving off the top of the candle, to give the flame more breathing room. But what a waste of wax!

Paul has the day off from work today. Predictably, I got the kids dressed and fed while he took a shower, because I am ALL EXPLAINED OUT telling him that the bulk of the morning routine has to be done right away. Then he said he was going out on an errand. I still hadn’t showered. The errand DID have to be done pretty early and WOULD benefit the entire family, so I said FINE. After all, I usually manage to take a shower without him home, so although it would be NICE to take a shower without having to constantly think of how much soap would still be on me if I had to leap out and drive naked to the emergency room with an injured child, I COULD do the usual anxious version.

In fact….it occurred to me that if Paul went on an errand, I could go to my computer with my coffee, without having to work steadily to emphasize the fact that I and only I was keeping our household afloat. So he left, and I got my coffee, and then I remembered the labor-intensive but delicious cookies I made last night. There were three left over. I’ll just have THOSE, too.

Two of the cookies were gone. Only the smallest cookie remained. Not only did he make his own care a priority and then take off, he ATE THE COOKIES.

OKAY. I have a WORKING THEORY, everyone.

Long have I puzzled over this: WHY OH WHY do I hear so many new parents saying things such as “No one told me it would be this hard” or “No one ever talks about postpartum depression,” when during my pre-parenting days I heard ALMOST NOTHING ELSE? Everywhere I turned, people were EAGER to tell me how crazy their children drove them, how little sleep they got, how painful labor was. In fact, if I hadn’t had a “populate the earth” gene that switched on in my early twenties, I might have been talked out of the parenthood thing altogether. And yet not just one person but LOTS of people were saying there was some sort of conspiracy of silence.

While I was doing the dishes tonight (Tessie wants me to tell The Story of How We Don’t Have a Dishwasher, but I already read you Goodnight Moon so THAT’S IT for tonight), I had a thought. I was very enthusiastic about having children, but many people are not quite so enthusiastic and maybe GIVE IT A MOMENT’S THOUGHT before springing into a state of life so SATURATED with children they can hardly sit down without squishing one. And what does the general public say, when people worry aloud about parenting? “It’s different when it’s your own!” “Oh, you can’t imagine that kind of love until you experience it!” “Children are such a blessing!” “You forget the pain!”

So my working theory is that the general public is contrary and argumentative: if you think you want children, they will try talk you out of it by telling you the bad things; if you think you don’t want children, they will try to talk you into it by telling you the good things. Thus, we get some people saying “No one ever told me I’d be so tired and angry and unhappy and that the baby would cry!” and other people saying “EVERYONE says that ALL THE TIME!”

And now that I have a hypothesis, we need to collect some data. These are the two things I need to know from you:

1) Were you enthusiastic and eager about children, or were you reluctant / conflicted / doubtful?

2) Did you hear mostly about how awful / painful / unhappy it would be and how you’d never sleep again, or did you hear mostly about how children were wonderful little miracles?

I am still completely absorbed in your excellent stories about how you found out you were pregnant. And Erica, my love, move your fingers and tell me your story, too. You might think that after 60-80 stories I would no longer be interested, but YOU WOULD BE WRONG.

Perhaps while I’m busy reading, you could go visit my friend Mairzy, who has a discussion going about charting. I know Mairzy IN REAL LIFE, as they say. And why DO they say “in real life”? It will come as a surprise to some, but this IS real life, what we are doing right here. I am actually writing this IN REALITY, and you are reading it IN REALITY. Both of us are REAL people. But I don’t know any good terms other than “in real life” to describe the people I know in a non-online way, so IRL will have to do. Maizy is my IRL friend, and she just started a blog, and she’s writing about a subject dear to my heart, so perhaps you could pop on over there and let me get back to reading your pee-stick stories.

I was talking with a friend of mine about how VIVIDLY we remember each positive pregnancy test. I may have to struggle to remember how old I am or whether we’re running low on flour, but I can tell you more than you would ever want to know about each time I discovered I was pregnant. I’ll try to be briefer than that.

With my first, I was charting, so when I hit day 16 after ovulation I knew I didn’t even have to take a test. I took one anyway. I leaned against the bathroom door, looking at myself in the mirror. My reflection didn’t know what to think, either.

With my second, I was charting but had gotten to be such an AWESOME EXPERT, I was only keeping track between cycle-start and ovulation. I was upset that month, because we’d totally missed our chance. Then one night at bedtime I was feeling crampy, and I thought, “Oh, yeah. I should be getting my period any day now.” I picked up my chart to count how many days there had been of this cycle. 32, 33, 34, 35, 36. I lay wide awake in the dark for a long time. I didn’t have to take a test that time, either, and I did anyway.

With the twins, we’d been trying for a few months, and I was already getting into the rhythm of living in 2-week segments. We’d hit it RIGHT ON for two months, and the tests were still negative. I didn’t have much hope for the third month. We were supposed to leave in a few minutes for an open house at William’s kindergarten, and I impulsively took a test—just to get it over with. I don’t remember anything about that open house.

With my fourth pregnancy, I had just weaned the twins and was waiting to get back on the Pill. I was supposed to start taking it on the first Sunday after my next period. I was waiting, waiting, waiting…where the heck is my period? It’s been 30 days. 31. Maybe it’s just interference from weaning hormones. 32. I took all four kids to the store so I could buy a test. An hour later, I was digging the twins’ baby clothes out of the donation pile and putting them back into storage.

Now I hope you’ll tell me yours. Feel free to use up as much comment section as you need. If you want to make a post of out it instead, leave a link in the comment section so I can go read it. I LOVE stories of Finding Out. I will read EVERY SINGLE ONE with RAPT ATTENTION.

Little girl shoes, 75% off at Target! It is hard to see in the TINY PICTURE, but there are three different kinds: a dark brown maryjane with pink flowers (“Jaye”), a medium brown t-strap with embroidered flowers (“Lolli”), and a lighter brown maryjane with pink flowers (“Kimani”). Normally I buy shoes only a size or two ahead, but what can I say? A gear slipped or something. I bought them in sizes 6-1/2 through 11, for $3.74 per pair.