Baby Step

By Debbie Friedman

The "Walking of the Child" is a traditional night of dancing, feasting and singing in Samoa to celebrate a baby going from a totally dependent state to joining the playing children. There are also celebrations for the "sitting of the child" and the "crawling of the child," but I think walking is the big one because the party goes on all night.

Many cultures, especially those closely connected to the land, hold their children close the first year and the first steps are a time of change for the mother and child relationship. Sometimes this change is ritualized, other times it is a gradual process of the child joining a broader part of the community. I loved carrying my son Ryan close to me. I found a Snugli-type front pack that worked really well much of the time, but as Ryan neared the age of one, he seemed to have ideas of his own and was reluctant to stay in very long.

I tend to have a good amount of cynicism for charts, measurements and what I perceive as often unrealistic expectations about "normal" developmental milestones in our culture. As for my son's first steps, I figured they would happen at their own time and pace -- a process so natural I would barely notice. Then one cold winter day as Ryan's first birthday neared, we were making some home movies with a borrowed video camera. Alex, my husband, was filming Ryan crawling around tormenting the cat, footage of the house, and scenes of Ryan showing how he lifts my top and helps himself to breastmilk. Alex heads into another room for a few moments, and then my voice comes booming over the tape, "Quick Alex, over here, over here, he's walking, hurry!!" Of course we missed the shot, but my son did take his first steps that day and apparently I was really excited.

In some ways I was prepared for the fact that my baby was entering into the official world of toddlerhood. He was already fairly mobile, crawling and pulling himself up, but walking allowed him greater freedom and exploration. We did another round of "kidproofing" to keep him safe and us sane. Ryan still crawled a great deal, but the walking seemed to increase a bit everyday. I watched him toddle here and there and was surprised that he already needed me less each day then he did the day before.

Breastfeeding became more important to me in many ways. As my child was growing and becoming more independent daily, the times he crawled on my lap to nurse were sometimes the only part of our days when I saw him completely relaxed and looking at me without being pulled toward something else that looked interesting, new and fun. For all the times I wished for breaks that first year, now I was thankful for his full attention. Ryan also seemed to enjoy the ability to go out into the big wide world and come back and check in with mom to be nurtured, snuggled and fed.

To my surprise, these first steps were a flurry of excitement and confusion for me. My child was growing up and walking, sometimes even away from me. But he constantly turned around and looked back to see if I was there, and he still does today at the age of 8. I've been there for the "first night alone in bed of the child," "loose tooth of the child," "reading of the child," "school of the child" and many other celebrations that I find as significant as those first steps. Every day these steps become a little bigger and take him a bit farther away, but so far he knows how to turn around and retrace those steps to find his mom and family there waiting and applauding for him.

Ryan has a sister now, and he, too, has watched and help celebrate her first steps. We laugh and get excited with every "first" Clare accomplishes as she grows and changes daily. And while I don't remember specific dates, we have family stories that typically capture the joy and essence of our own celebrations and milestones.

The first steps of my children are memories now, part of our history and stories. But there are lots of other steps after those first ones, one right after the other, and they just keep coming. I have a very difficult time imagining steps in the future such as my children leaving for school, or starting their own lives, lives that don't center on me.

Maybe my children can think of some celebrations for me as I go through rites of passage for their learning to drive, first dates and leaving home. Maybe it will help, maybe it won't, but at least it will be one more excuse to eat, sing and dance together.