seven months


She had been rocking on her knees for weeks, and then, on the day she turned 7 months old, Soledad crawled her first real crawl. It was across my bed. She was reaching for my polka-dotted pajama bottoms. David was out of town, but he happened to be on the phone at the time.


She had sort of a jack-rabbit crawl at first, but she is smoother and faster now, and she almost never stops moving. She arches her back and twists her shoulders so that it is almost impossible to get her changed. She squeals and slaps her hands on the hard-wood floor when she catches Alice’s attention.


“You know why she learned to crawl so fast?” I asked Alice. “It’s because she wanted to follow you. She really loves you.”

Alice nodded. “She’s lucky to have me.”

It’s true of course.


The other day, Alice told us, “When I was a baby, I had no one to take care of me.”


“You had Mama and Daddy,” we said. “We took care of you.”

“I mean, I didn’t have a big brother or a big sister.”

Soledad is lucky to have her.


Today when I picked Soledad up from day care, she had pulled herself up to standing and was leaning on a big foam block. She screamed and laughed when she saw me. It’s one of the best things I ever ever hear.



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