Goin' Rogue

So today was the last day of a class/playgroup-thing that Finn and I go to. And I can't say I'm not relieved. Not that it wasn't great to get together with other babies who reach all their milestones the day our German instructor thinks they should, and not that I won't miss learning little activities and games that will help Finn reach the aforementioned milestones and not get too far behind the crawling-in-a-straight-line and eating-three-meals-a-day babies, but ... 

Here's how a typical class activity would go.  All the babies lay on their towels on the mat in front of the mamas, and all the mamas shake a little toy on the right side of the babies, and then all the babies roll over towards the toy. All the OTHER babies (did I mention they're all German?). Finn would look at the toy, look at me, look back at the toy, with an expression that clearly said,"what, do you want that toy? Why don't you get it? Do I have to do ALL the work around here?" He would then roll in the other direction. 

And do I have to tell you that at the end of class,when all the other babies lay nicely on their towels while their mamas rub their scented, oiled hands across their compliant bodies, learning to soothe the various ailments of the infant child, my infant child won't stay on his back for even a quarter of a second, not long enough to begin a massage, not even long enough to get the cap off the oil bottle.  

And this is what happened today. The studio has an inclined gym mat, about 6 feet long, that's supposed to help beginning crawlers, since they're going downhill. Not that the other babies really need such an elementary device, expert crawlers that they are. The mamas take turns placing their babies at the top of the incline, and then dragging a toy in front of the babies to get them to crawl down, finally rewarding them with the toy once they reach the base. So it's our turn, and I place Finn at the top, and  place the toy just out of reach. He reaches out one hand, doesn't get the toy, and so promptly flips over onto his back, looking up at me and grinning. OK, cute, but, we're supposed to be making our way down the incline, so I shake that toy like there's no tomorrow, trying to get Finn to flip back onto his tummy and come get it. He cranes his head around, sees the toy, gets excited, and tries to roll and spin himself to the toy all at once. Having practically done a back somersault he's now on his tummy, toy in hand, lying horizontally across the mat. I try to straighten him out, gently taking the toy and placing it out of reach again.  Finn reaches out for the toy, starts to pull himself in its direction, and then realizes that the fastest way down this incline is to roll.  And so he rolls and slides, kicking one of those German-straight-line-crawlers in the process, and lands at the bottom. First he looks at me and grins again, then he looks up and sees that he passed the toy on the way down, and starts to cry. 

I feel a need to note that even though Finn may be way behind all those German babies when it comes to crawling and laying still and general obedience, this was, I think, the first time he has cried in class.  The other babies cry only about 50 times each session. Not that I'm counting. I'm just saying ...  

Oh, my little rogue roller.  Don't ever let us make you crawl in a straight line.