Today WCB had her first physical therapy appointment at the children's hospital downtown. Official diagnosis: She's stubborn.
The therapist says that there is nothing wrong with her. She COULD walk; she just doesn't want to. And, after observing the family in action, he said that Jay and I are making it worse by not letting her get frustrated. Can't reach a toy? We'll get that for you, sweetie. From now on, we're supposed to let her do stuff for herself and fall down and cry. We tried it once at the therapist's office, and I almost started crying myself.
We got a bunch of exercises to do at home, and then we go back and see the therapist again in two weeks. Sounds so simple, but WCB is already wise to the exercises and won't do them. For example, instead of holding her hands while she walks, we're supposed to lightly hold her elbows and let go. The second we touch her elbows, her legs go limp like Ray Bolger in The Wizard of Oz. I guess she's going to while away the hours conferrin' with the flowers.
Everything will work out. Nobody crawls to kindergarten. Do they?