Misty Watson: Taking her first steps

Published 6:00 am Wednesday, January 9, 2013

It finally happened!

My daughter, Sophie, took her first steps.

She is 14-and-a-half months old, and even though our doctor says she’s developing fine, I was beginning to turn into a worried mother.

Friends with babies several months younger than mine were posting on Facebook that their babies had begun walking, some as young as 9 months old, but most of them closer to a year.

My husband, Chris Wheeler, and I approach parenting in a pretty laid back way. “She’ll walk when she’s ready,” we said when people acted shocked she wasn’t running full speed ahead yet.

But inside I was beginning to think the worst about my daughter being a late walker.

We’ve never felt the need to push her into the upcoming milestone — at least until it came to taking her first steps. Each night I prayed that my daughter would figure out her balance and turn loose of our hands.

It was becoming a major point of frustration in our home. There were a lot of tantrums, grunts and tears, and not all were from Sophie.

For the last two weeks, all Sophie wanted was for us to walk her. Even though she has a toy she can walk behind pushing, she wanted our hands. After an hour of half bending over, slowly moving through the house, Chris and I were ready to sit down for a while. But not Sophie. She wanted to keep moving.

She let us know she wanted to keep moving and wasn’t happy we wanted a break. It’s possible she let some of our neighbors know this as well. I never went outside to see how far I could stand away from the house and still hear her screams. Often, this resulted in an early bedtime (for her, not for us). It was a necessity, the only way we knew to survive the difficult days of being on the verge of toddlerhood.

So Monday night as I sat in the newsroom toning photos, my mom called. She was watching Sophie while Chris attended a church board meeting.

“She finally did it!” Mom exclaimed. “You have a walker!”

Mom gave me all the exciting details about Sophie walking back and forth between her and Dad. Mom shot a couple of shaky videos on her cellphone and emailed them to me so I could sit and fight the tears in the newsroom as I watched her waddle out of my dad’s hands.

I was beaming!

And though I was so happy Sophie had finally done it, a part of me was sad it had happened like it did. I wasn’t home to see it, and neither was Chris.

Sophie saved all her other “firsts” for a time at least one of us, if not both, were home with her. I was there when she rolled over. I don’t remember how old she was, but she was very young. She said her first word, “Mama,” one evening while we were sitting in the living room. (I still say “Uga,” the name of the mascot for the University of Georgia, was her second word, but Chris argues it doesn’t count). She was just shy of being 6 months old. We were with her when she began to crawl.

It’s times like this being a working mother is hard.

I want to be there for every milestone, but the reality is I’m lucky to have experienced as many as I have. Of course, there are days leaving her behind with her sitter, my mom or Chris is a lot easier than others. For example, if she’s cutting four teeth at once, I’ve heard nothing but screaming all night long, and/or I’ve had to sleep in a weird position so that she can nurse all night long, it’s easier to leave her for a few hours.

So with Sophie’s first step, I begin running through the same set of questions every working mother has asked herself at one point or another. Is my job, my career, really worth being away from her? Would I ever be happy as a stay-at-home mom? Could I ever afford to be a stay-at-home mom? Would staying at home with her all day, every day, make me run from the house screaming while pulling my hair out of my head?

I know the answer to those questions or I wouldn’t be sitting here typing this column. I would be at home watching her waddle around the house. (Shame on you if you’ve ever judged a mother for working outside the home. Or if you’ve ever made her feel guilty for working.)

The truth is, I enjoy my job (most days anyway. I mean, who likes their job every single day?). And I enjoy my time away from my daughter. But being a working mother comes with sacrifices. Missing her first steps was a big sacrifice, and I know it won’t be the last.

Murray County native Misty Watson is a photographer and staff writer for The Daily Citizen. Follow her on Twitter at @mistydwatson and respond to her column, #dcnworkingmom.