Walker Monster

An early baby walker! Strasbourg, France

An early baby walker! Strasbourg, France (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Since our cute little Miss P has started pulling up on everything, I thought it might be fun to get her a walker.  All of our floors are either hardwood or tile, so it is the perfect setup for something on wheels.

They day we got the walker and I poured the contents of the box on to the floor, she immediately crawled over and began to pat the frame.  She just KNEW it was for her.

I put it together, put her in it and she promptly started crying.  I tried to show her how to work it, but she couldn’t seem to get the hang of it so I took her out and dried her tears, hoping the next day would be better.

For the next two days after that I repeatedly put her in the walker.  She would manage to back herself up against a wall or a piece of furniture.  She would wail in frustration.  I would pull the walker back out, she would back up again and then start crying.

I was beginning to think this was a bad idea.

By day 4, she finally had the hang of moving forward.  By day 6 she was moving throughout the house with ease.

I finally had the situation I had dreamed of: she’s safe, she’s mobile, and she can follow me around if she wants.  Perfect, right?

All except for the small detail that this walker is a toe-eating, ankle-smashing piece of equipment.  Mine, not hers.

I put her in the walker while I’m cooking and cleaning in the kitchen.  She follows me around, trying to trap my toes under the plastic bumper on the walker.  I spend my time duck-walking with my toes curled upwards.  When I’m doing dishes or standing at the stove she comes up behind me and rams the same bumper into the backs of my heels.


She’s happy, though.  That’s what counts.  Right?


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