"This is ridiculous," she thought, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "I just want to be able to move around a bit. Is that too much to ask?" 

The nursery was quiet save for her occasional grunts of effort. Mrs. Crow had stepped out to fetch fresh linens, leaving Lydia alone with her increasingly undignified attempts at movement. She had been waiting for this moment of privacy all morning.

Push up with the arms. Try not to fall. Try *really* hard not to fall.

Thump.

Rolling onto her back, Lydia stared up at the patterns of light dancing across the nursery ceiling. The morning sun filtered through the large windows, casting shadows from the oak tree outside. She had spent so many hours watching those shadows move across the ceiling that she'd started to recognize the patterns. That particular shadow looked rather like a rabbit, if she squinted just right.

"I'm going to lose my mind if I have to spend one more day just lying here," she mused. "There must be more interesting things to look at in this house than this ceiling."

The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted her thoughts. Quickly, she assumed what she considered her 'normal baby' position – lying on her back, occasionally kicking her legs in what adults seemed to find endlessly entertaining.

Mrs. Crow entered, arms full of fresh linens. "Still awake, Miss Lydia? You've been quite energetic this morning." The elderly woman smiled warmly as she began changing the bedding in the crib.

Lydia responded with what she hoped was an age-appropriate gurgle, while thinking, "You'd be energetic too if you were trapped in here all day."

"Your sisters were never quite so restless at your age," Mrs. Crow continued, folding the old sheets. "Miss Elizabeth was a quick one, to be sure, but you..." She paused, looking thoughtfully at Lydia. "There's something different about you, little one."

Once Mrs. Crow turned her attention to organizing the linen closet, Lydia resumed her attempts at mobility. This time, she managed to plant her palms firmly on the floor and push against it while pulling her knees under her body. Success! She held the position, trembling slightly with the effort.

Mrs. Crow turned at the sound of movement and gasped, nearly dropping the stack of blankets she held. "Good heavens!"

There was Lydia, not yet six months old, steadily maintaining a crawling position and looking rather surprised at her own success. The nanny rushed to the doorway, calling out, "Miss Jane! Miss Elizabeth! Come quickly!"

Jane and Elizabeth burst into the nursery, their faces flushed with excitement.

"What is it, Mrs. Crow?" Jane asked, slightly out of breath.

"Look at your sister!"

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "She's crawling! But isn't she too young?"

"Indeed she is, Miss Elizabeth. Indeed she is." Mrs. Crow's voice held a mixture of pride and bewilderment.

As her sisters crowded around her, exclaiming over her achievement, Lydia wobbled a bit, genuinely uncertain about how to maintain this new position. The floor suddenly seemed much closer than before.

"Should we tell Mama?" Jane asked, already heading for the door.

"Perhaps we should wait until she does it again," Elizabeth suggested, her sharp eyes studying her baby sister. "You know how Mama gets about these things."

Lydia's arms finally gave way, and she plopped back onto her stomach with a small grunt. Well, at least she had managed it once. That was progress.

"See? It might have been just a moment's strength," Elizabeth said, though her expression suggested she wasn't entirely convinced.

Mrs. Crow nodded slowly, still watching Lydia with curious eyes. "Yes, perhaps you're right, Miss Elizabeth. Though I must say..." She trailed off, shaking her head.

As her sisters and nanny discussed her achievement, Lydia felt a small surge of satisfaction. Maybe tomorrow she could make it all the way to that interesting-looking ribbon under the dresser.