Keeping up with the Joanna's

Yesterday I met the neighbor's daughter and nanny. They just live a few houses up, and I've seen them on walks and such when I'm inside blogging. But I've never had the chance to meet them. The little girl's name is Joanna, and she is 8 months old.

She is twice the size of Vivian. And I don't mean fat, I just mean bigger, and sturdier. As in, she looks like she is 3 or 4 months older than Vivian, not the other way around.

Also, she is practically walking. The nanny can hold onto her hands and walk her up and down the street. Vivian is way too unsteady on her feet for that. Furthermore, she has no interest, and would much rather be carried. Joanna looks every bit like an almost-toddler, while Vivian is still a baby.

I know that babies develop on their own time-table. I know that she is in the "range" for normal, even if she's on the low end of that range. I know that plenty of babies are even "slower" than she is and still are considered "normal". Most of the time--say 98% of the time--I am completely okay with her development. In fact, I welcome it. I remember Isaac at this age, and he was into everything. All day long was a chorus of no, no no, and it wore me out. Vivian is more mellow, and that makes my life easier.

But seeing her with 8 month old Joanna made me feel icky, nonetheless. Why has she been late with every milestone? Why doesn't she have any interest in standing, or cruising? Why doesn't she have any teeth, for pete's sake?

I hate this part of being a mother!