Floor Lessons from my Granddaughter
It's morning in mid-July, the hummingbirds are flitting from branch to branch before braving the open space around the feeder holding their favorite sugar water. I need to upgrade our old deck chairs. More than ever I'm noticing how the arms are confining my legs in the forward position. I would set up the Flow Desk out here, but the squirrels had an acorn party earlier this morning and made a mess, so I'm at a table, grabbing these thoughts.
Raising our two daughters was a humbling experience. Now, as a new grandparent, I'm discovering ever new levels of humility. At six months now, our granddaughter is mastering sitting up unassisted. I'm deliberately not choosing the word "learn" here, because no one is teaching her. She clearly has the drive to figure it out, as we all did. She exhibits perfect posture as she balances her head on top of her cairn of spinal bones. I can only imagine the level of coordination between hundreds of little muscles as she does this. It is not a conscious endeavor. She is blithely unaware of the complexity of it. I hope we can simply provide support and stay out of her way in all the other endeavors she will master throughout her life.
There are a few things I'm noticing. As she sits up, her legs are never straight out in front of her, knees facing up. No, her stability comes from femurs and knees turned out, with the soles of her feet facing each other. Her legs are active participants along with the psoas deep inside. She also does much better when sitting on firm flat surfaces than on a couch, thick pad, or her stroller's bucket seat.
Note to future stroller designers: leave plenty of room below the waist for infants and toddlers to spread their legs out. They don't need the bucket seat of race car drivers or pilots to keep their feet at the ready to control the pedals, but they do need to maintain their external femur rotation. The same consideration should be given to those of us traveling in coach. We need the room and capacity to fold our ankles up so that after hours of sitting we have fewer adhesions in our psoas to work out.
Though my granddaughter may not be consciously aware of every detail of how her anatomy coordinates this feat of sitting up, she is certainly aware of what a marvelous accomplishment this is. She loves having her head high above tummy-time level, unpropped by a parent or cushions. Without needing to look behind, she regularly comes up against gravity's event horizon of falling backward. It's delightful to watch her weave and swerve into that zone, deftly avoiding the point of no return. It's also fun to watch my adrenal glands kick in each time I imagine that beautiful noggin dodging my grasp and hitting the floor. I haven't been aware of the location of my adrenals since our daughters were first toddling around.
My granddaughter is pretty fortunate, she's got grandpa rolling around on the floor with her, grabbing his toes in happy baby and confirming for her that her way of sitting is bringing her fully into the human family rather than losing status by choosing the floor. I wonder about what message young ones are getting who don't see many adults on the floor with them. If you're at a gathering, or event where you see some young ones camped out on the floor and you have the urge or impulse to join them, honor that urge. Not only will the young ones appreciate it, but you will benefit immensely.
If you aren’t experiencing sitting up quite the same way as you did in your early years, why is that? How many hours behind the wheel, in school desks, and lounging in front of the TV has it taken to rob you of a skill you had mastered before your first birthday? How can we support each other in reclaiming this lost art? At Ikaria Design we’re determined to create products that keep us in the zone that our granddaughter is in right now, even as we execute our ultramodern, adult digital skills. Let us know how we can support you in that journey as well.