One of my greatest fears has been that I would
miss August and Finley's first steps. Being at work 5 days a week, I already
miss so much. I miss them making friends at the park, learning to crawl into
their stroller, eating lunch at parks and restaurants around our neighborhood,
story-time, free concerts at The Grove. It makes me crazy, crazy how much I am missing.
So one moment I really wanted to witness first
hand was my boys walking for the first time. Well, on Sunday, August accommodated
my wishes.
It happened while we were in the living room. He
was holding onto his stroller near the front door. He pivoted, let go of the
stroller and stepped, once, twice, then went down onto his bum.
"Wow," I yelled to Matt, who was in the
kitchen. "August just walked all by himself."
He did it again that afternoon in our bedroom. He
just stood and walked toward me. "You did it! You did it!" I shouted
at August as I scooped him up and smothered him in proud kisses. (Above photo shows Fin in front, August behind him, just a couple hours before the steps were taken.)
And once again in the evening, he performed his
magic trick, taking three steps toward his Mozart Music Cube - this time with
Matt as a witness, too.
That night, as I was getting August ready for
bed, I held him tightly, looked up at... God, the universe, the sky, the
ceiling, and said, "Thank you. Thank you so much for letting me be here for
this moment."
But as with everything about parenting (and life,
for that matter) things are not black and white. August "walks" only
sometimes, in little tentative, but excited spurts here and there. He takes two
or three steps, screeches with joy and plops down onto his bottom.
I'm so grateful I got to see his first steps. Now
I am wonder, 'Will I be there when he really starts to walk, to run, to leap?' I
wish I could see every moment. It kills me that I can't. All I can do is pay close attention when I am with him and hope I can catch
many more big moments.
