The Truth About When Your Baby Actually Sits Up

Sarah
2026-04-02T00:52:37+02:00

When my daughter Maya was five months old, I got three entirely different pieces of advice about her sitting up in the span of about twenty-four hours. My mother-in-law, bless her, came over and immediately started shoving Maya into the corner of our sectional sofa, packing decorative throw pillows—the scratchy embroidered ones with the weird tassels—around her like she was a fragile piece of cargo being shipped overseas. My best friend, who does a lot of aerial yoga and talks about auras, told me I absolutely must not force the timeline and just need to let Maya "find her grounded pelvic center" organically on the floor. And then my pediatrician, Dr. K, just shrugged at me while I was intensely vibrating from my third iced coffee of the morning and said, "She'll sit when she sits, just leave her on her stomach more."

So naturally, I went home, put the baby to bed, and frantically googled when do babies sit up on their own at 2 AM while stress-eating stale Goldfish crackers in the dark. I remember looking at my phone's search history the next morning and seeing a desperate, typo-ridden descent into madness: when do babie sit, how to make a babi sit up fast, and simply when do babies sit. Sleep deprivation is a hell of a drug, honestly.

The great sitting timeline (which is basically a lie)

I swear Instagram makes it look like the second a kid turns six months old, they just pop up into a perfect 90-degree angle, smile for the camera, and start eating organic avocado toast. It's crap. It's all crap.

When I finally forced my pediatrician to give me an actual timeline, he told me it’s anywhere from four to ten months. Which, frankly, is a wildly unhelpful window of time. That's half a year! How is a parent supposed to work with that? But apparently, the statistics say that like 75 percent of babies figure out how to sit independently by around seven months, and almost all of them get it by eight or nine months. And if your baby was premature, you've to use their adjusted age, which involves math that I'm fundamentally incapable of doing without a calculator.

Anyway, the point is, nobody's baby is reading the textbooks. Leo, my oldest, was a solid chunk of a baby who didn't want to do anything but lay like a slug until he was nearly eight months old. Maya was trying to hurl herself upright at five months. It's a crapshoot.

The stages of not quite sitting yet

There's this whole progression they go through that no one warns you about. First, they do the tripod thing. Around five months, Leo would sit on the hardwood floor and lean entirely forward on both hands, looking exactly like a tiny, drunk patron trying to balance on a barstool at closing time. There was usually a solid string of drool connecting his mouth to the floor. Very glamorous.

Then comes the wobbly stage. This is the worst stage. This is the stage where they figure out how to lift their hands off the floor for exactly three seconds, realize they're defying gravity, panic, and launch themselves backward like they're doing a corporate trust fall. Oh god, the trust falls. I spent an entire month just hovering behind my children with my arms outstretched like a lunatic because they kept trying to crack their heads open on the coffee table.

Eventually, they figure out functional sitting, which is where they can actually push themselves up from their stomach, sit there, play with a toy, and not immediately face-plant. MAGIC.

Let's talk about those plastic bucket seats

When Leo was four months old, my husband Mark came home with one of those foam bucket seats. You know the ones. They look like a brightly colored piece of Tupperware that you wedge your child's thighs into. The box promised it would teach him to sit. Mark was so proud of himself for "problem-solving."

Let me tell you, my physical therapist friend came over, saw Leo wedged into this neon green contraption looking like a hostage in a marshmallow, and looked at me like I was feeding him straight Mountain Dew. Apparently, these container seats are actually terrible for teaching babies how to sit. I guess they force their little spines into a weird C-curve and completely eliminate the natural wobbling that teaches their brain how to balance. Plus, they can't reach anything or shift their weight. So instead of buying more plastic junk that traps your kid, just throw the bucket seat in the garage and put them on the floor to figure it out.

What actually helped my kids build core strength

Tummy time. I know, I hate tummy time too. Every baby hates tummy time. They scream into the rug, you feel like a terrible mother, it's awful. But Dr. K was right—it really is the only way they build those neck and back muscles.

When Maya was going through her "I absolutely hate the floor" phase, the only thing that kept her from screaming was this Wooden Rainbow Play Gym. It’s this A-frame wooden thing with these cute, neutral animal toys hanging down. She would lay under it and furiously try to bat at the little wooden elephant, which tricked her into lifting her head and using her core muscles. I genuinely loved this thing because it wasn't made of hideous plastic, it didn't play some demonic electronic song that would get stuck in my head for days, and it seriously helped her build the back strength she needed. Plus, Mark didn't trip over it and snap it in half like he did with the cheap plastic one we had for Leo.

Instead of the bucket seats, I just started laying out a soft landing pad on the living room floor. I used this Bamboo Universe Pattern Baby Blanket that I originally got for the stroller. It ended up being our designated "learn to sit" drop zone. It's super soft, really breathable, and the little planets on it are cute. Honestly, it's just a blanket. It's a really nice, sustainable blanket, but it's not going to magically teach your kid physics. But it did cushion Maya's head when she inevitably toppled over backwards, and it washed out easily when she spit up all over it. Which was constantly.

The eating solids connection and other random crap

Here's a fun fact I didn't know until I was deep in the trenches: you can't really feed them actual food until they can sit up. Our pediatrician was pretty firm that we couldn't start spooning pureed sweet potatoes into Leo's mouth until he could sit upright with minimal support and not wobble his head around like a dashboard hula girl. Something about airway alignment and choking hazards? Science is wild, but it makes sense when you think about it. You try eating a dry cracker while slumped over backwards.

Of course, right when they're trying to figure out how to sit and eat, they're also aggressively teething. Because why wouldn't the universe stack all the hardest milestones on top of each other? While Leo was practicing his tripod sit, I tried giving him that Panda Teether from Kianao. It's a silicone bamboo-looking thing. Honestly, it was fine. He mostly just chewed on the panda's ear for two minutes, got mad that he lost his balance, and chucked it across the room at the dog. But it's dishwasher safe, which is literally the only feature I care about anymore when buying things for my children.

Oh, and the second they start sitting up, lower the crib mattress to the bottom setting so they don't hurl themselves over the railing in the middle of the night.

If you're trying to set up a decent floor space that doesn't look like a primary-colored plastic factory exploded in your living room, you can browse some honestly nice organic play setups here.

When should you really panic?

Look, if your kid isn't sitting right at six months, take a deep breath and go heat up your coffee. Variation is totally normal. But my doctor said if they aren't sitting even with support by nine months, or if they've really poor head control at four months, or if they feel weirdly stiff like a board or super floppy like a wet noodle, just call the pediatrician.

Not WebMD. For the love of god, don't ask the internet. Just make an appointment.

Before you go spiral on a late-night Google binge about motor skill percentiles, go check out Kianao’s collection of sustainable developmental toys that seriously encourage natural movement instead of just trapping your kid in a foam seat.

The messy FAQ about sitting up

Does sitting mean they're going to crawl tomorrow?

Oh god no. Not necessarily. Leo sat like a lump for two whole months before he even attempted to drag himself across the floor. Maya, on the other hand, figured out sitting and crawling in the same week, which was a logistical nightmare for me. They all do things on their own weird, chaotic schedule.

My mother says we need to pull him up by his hands to practice. Is that a thing?

Yeah, surprisingly, the boomers got this one right! Well, kind of. Dr. K told me about the "pull-to-sit" exercise. When they're laying on their back, you gently hold their hands and slowly pull them up into a sitting position. It’s basically a baby crunch. It helps build their core. Just don't yank them like you're starting a lawnmower.

Why does my baby sit up in the crib and just cry?

Because babies are absolute trolls. When they learn a new skill, their brain short-circuits and they just want to practice it at 3 AM. Maya used to pop up into a seated position in her sleep sack, realize she didn't know how to lay back down, and just wail. My advice? Give them five or ten minutes to see if they figure out how to flop back over before you go in there, or you'll be playing whack-a-mole all night.

Is it bad if my baby hates tummy time? (And how do I get them to sit then?)

Every baby hates tummy time. It's universally despised. But it's really the main way they get the back strength to sit. I had to get down on the floor with Leo, put mirrors in front of him, sing stupid songs, and basically perform a one-woman circus act to keep him on his stomach for five minutes. Do short bursts. Two minutes here, three minutes there. It adds up.

Do I need pillows behind them all the time?

During the wobbly phase? Yes, a thousand percent. Unless you enjoy the sound of a hollow coconut hitting a hardwood floor. A nursing pillow wrapped around their back works great, or just a thick, soft blanket. But eventually, they need to feel a little bit of imbalance so they learn to catch themselves with their hands. Just stay close by.