On your marks, steady… Wait!

There are milestones we wait for with a certain impatience. Walking is one of them. It's reassuring, it's visible, it's celebrated. How many times have we heard: "So, is he walking yet?" As if it were the only measure of a baby's success. Usually followed a few months later by… "So, he's still not walking?" No. We're still at the crawling stage. The one nobody particularly waited for, less spectacular. For us, it's "just" a transition, a vague story of scraped knees and sacrificed trousers (or drool on the floorboards…).

And yet, so much is happening at that moment. On all fours, the body organises itself diagonally: one arm moves forward, the opposite leg follows. This cross-pattern movement, which professionals call the contralateral pattern (yes, we double-checked the term too — three times), requires both sides of the body to cooperate constantly. Inside, the brain is buzzing. Information flows between the two hemispheres via the corpus callosum (we checked that one too!), that bundle of fibres that coordinates movement, gaze, and balance.

It's deep, invisible work — but essential for what comes next: coordination, attention, spatial awareness… and later, skills like reading and writing. "Less" spectacular? Actually, an incredibly well-designed piece of machinery!

 

The turning point: the moment they leave their base camp. The feeding pillow, which until now served as a reassuring prop to observe from or pull themselves up on, suddenly becomes an obstacle to get past (or clamber over!). And then, almost without us noticing, they don't really need it to hold themselves up any more. Victory — the body has found its own bearings. The play mat becomes the main arena, the place where they can push up on their arms, press down on their knees, change direction without help. Exploration becomes more fluid, more confident. Crawling isn't just a way of getting around, but a way of connecting with the world around them. Navigating around the Ciao Bazar (in the hope it tidies itself up — who knows), crawling under the coffee table, scooting along the sofa, turning around at the last second… The child observes, adjusts, tests their limits.

They also discover textures. Hands and knees press into them, grip them. Sensations that fuel movement and inspire them to venture further. And what if the crawling phase is brief… or different? Not all children go through classic crawling. Some roll for a long time, others shuffle on their bottoms, others still pull themselves up quickly… before coming back to it later. These paths are many, and all perfectly valid.

But not all floors tell the same story to a baby. On a surface that's too smooth, knees slip, hands slide, the effort is lost. Movement becomes frustrating. The body then looks for another strategy — sometimes more upright, sometimes quicker. A firm, stable life mat with just the right amount of grip changes everything. The child feels that their actions have an immediate effect. They push, they move forward. They try again. It's no coincidence that certain movements emerge more easily when the floor "responds".

Slightly worn-out trousers, hands full of textures, curious eyes… that's real learning. Walking will come, but every centimetre covered on the floor is already writing a little of their story. So let's slow down too. Accept that what isn't immediately visible is often what builds the most. Trust in these quiet, less photogenic steps (we'll have plenty of picture-perfect moments later), but deeply formative ones.

The next time someone asks: "Is he walking yet?" You can calmly reply: "Not yet. He's exploring."