Gymboree valedictorian

September 20, 2006

My son is not on track to becoming the valedictorian in his Gymboree class. Not even close. He’s not the quickest. He’s not the strongest. He’s not even the best dressed because some of the parents purchase outfits from Janie and Jack before they even go on sale. One of the boys, nine-month-old Christopher can pull himself up to a standing position and stand on his own. Another little girl, Allie, claps with exuberance at the songs. Little Benjamin can crawl across the room in 10 seconds flat and precious little Grace climbs the play structure as easily as she waves hello.

Joey, on the other hand, is a bit more cautious and a bit more eccentric in his preferences. While the other babies lunge forward to chase the balls on all fours, Joey flops forward and rolls across the room, taking ten balls and the parachute along for the ride. When the other babies attack the ramps and slides on the play structures with gusto, Joey is left behind as his wobbling crawl (if you can call it that) just can’t keep up with the others. When the teacher blows giant bubbles for the babies to pop, Joey screams and hides his head in my shoulder while the other babies squeal with delight. When the teacher sings “Shhhhhhh!” after a long parachute bouncing session, Joey screams at the top of his lungs, thinking it’s hilarious to hear his own voice in the silent room.

Honestly, at yesterday’s class, it kind of bugged me that he wasn’t the fastest and strongest. I didn’t want it to. I know that all babies develop in their own ways and at their own rates, but I sure wouldn’t mind if Joey was the kid that everyone “oohed” and “ahhed” over. I left Gymboree class thinking that we were going to go home and practice. I had grand plans to spend hours on the floor, teaching Joey to crawl in a smooth and efficient manner and practicing balance and rhythm.

But when we arrived home, I set Joey on the floor and my plans changed. He rolled over and scooted forward towards his toys in his awkward and uncoordinated way, and I found in awe of the way he moved and explored the room. He rolled across the room, stopping to examine the table leg and a toy along the way. He pulled himself up on the coffee table and immediately flopped back down and wormed his way over to his books. Sure, he’s not the fastest or even the most coordinated, but he’s funny, interesting and different. He’s discovered a creative means of locomotion that’s all his and I wouldn’t trade the world’s fastest crawler for my precious little boy who crawls to the beat of his own drum.