It is obvious from the time Loki learns to walk that she is not going to be very good at it. Normal toddlers fall, and often; she does it more, and longer. She has been practicing at walking for years before she can cross a floor smoothly nine times of ten, even if she does not sprawl completely every time she missteps.
She winces when she trips, not so much out of embarrassment or because she's hurt herself, but because the reactions are never good.
Loki approaches, and sits, and puts her scepter down. "I asked Thor to stop teasing me for falling, but I don't think she understood me, and anyway I don't like to fall. Is there magic that would make it stop?"
"The magic I work is men's magic, and not suitable for a young warrior," says Frigg, kissing the top of Loki's head. "And you are young and do not know it, and I am old and know it very well."
"Okay, so I guess I won't defeat my enemies with sorcery," says Loki, "but I won't be able to defeat any enemies at all if I keep falling. I want to try to fix it."