It all started so innocently.
A week or so after G turned one I thought, “I bet she could stand on her own if I just showed her.”
And so I propped her in front of me and did my best to let go of her hands without her noticing. And then clapped and cheered like a maniac when, lo and behold, she stood! It was for an entire 3.5 seconds but still, that counts.
For about a week, this was her favorite trick. She would stand on her own, waving her hands as an expression of pure joy and excitement and squealing with delight. My husband and I are dutiful cheerleaders, we would applaud and say “Yay G! What a big girl!” All the while feeling those pangs of wondering where our baby went and marveling at how unnatural it seemed to have her standing alone with nothing to support her.
After a week or so, that solo standing business was dullsville for our little explorer. She pulled herself up on a chair, then turned around and took 3 steps right to me.
I nearly died.
We’re now in this fun in-between phase of moving from crawling to walking. She still mostly crawls – because she moves faster this way and efficiency is important when you just HAVE to break into that cabinet that you’re not supposed to play in. And she’ll walk to me when when I hold out my arms and tell her to “come get me”. Although that walk is like a “step, step, TRUST FALL” where she just lunges forward and hopes for the best, depth perception be damned, I’d better be able to grab her and keep a bloody nose from happening.
But every once in a while, when she REALLY wants to get to something, she will take a few shaky steps. She has this great little excited sound she makes when she’s walking – something I’m sure other parents will nod their heads at – but it’s like a laugh and a pant all at once. And it is the best sound in the world.
She is so proud of every. single. step. And – truth be told? I am too. She takes those steps and I think, “Okay. We made it this far. We can keep doing this. We can keep moving.”
And move we will. Because ready or not, here she comes.
Or, rather, there she goes.
(100 imaginary internet points awarded to those of you who know the 90s sitcom referenced in the title. 50 additional points to anyone who now has the theme song in your head. I’m sorry and you’re welcome.)