Today, he stands.
Holding onto the coffee table, my unhurried child pulls up onto two little feet, flexing ten little toes more accustomed to “This Little Piggy” than to balance, and tentatively lets go. He wobbles for a second, finds his center, and starts forward: pit-pat, pit-pat. But he’s too far from the next point of support, so he sinks to sitting. And as Big Brother shrieks, “Good job, little boy!” he shows all five of his teeth in a smile that could light up Las Vegas.
Despite his small size, the doctor’s dependence on growth curves and insistence on endocrine tests, despite his meandering pace through the developmental milestones, he walks. After the spot-on-time forward charge of the first child and the eighteen-month concentrated effort it took to teach the second, my third child simply decides it’s time. And without fuss, without drawing attention, he walks.
And it warms a mother’s heart.
What is your motherhood moment this week?