These past few weeks we've been battling colds, ear infections, and the usual coughing spells, but it hasn't slowed her down any, and it hasn't slowed Mommy down either. The quicker Lucia gets, the quicker I get. I get quicker at catching her falls, I get quicker at locking the doors, and latching the drawers, I get quicker at making her laugh, I get quicker at saying "no," and I get quicker on the road. That's right, somehow, I have found the time to get faster, but we'll get to that with a another post later this week.
Lucia is getting stronger, taller, bigger, and smarter, at a rate that I find hard to keep up with, but somehow I'm managing. This past week she perfected her pull-to-stand (and pulling herself up onto everything possible is all she does). While she did it in front of me a few weeks ago, as of Monday she had yet to do it without immediately falling down. On Wednesday my husband called to tell me that her teacher said that she had pulled herself to stand on the "baby fence" and stood there for about 10 minutes all by herself (probably because she hadn't figured out how to get down yet). I never thought I would have the reaction that I did, I mean I see kids pull to stand everyday, I help them pull to stand, I teach them to pull to stand... so crying about my daughter doing it was a little unexpected, both to my husband and myself. When I thought about it a little more I realized that I didn't cry because she did it, I cried because I missed it.
I try not to be a therapist at home, and while its hard, I have really tried not to treat my daughter like a patient when it comes to her development. I try to focus more on giving my daughter opportunities and experiences like taking her to the beach, the park, and letting her explore. She'll crawl when she wants to, she'll stand when she wants to, and one day (probably soon) she will walk when she wants to. The problem is, I want to be there when she does.
I am not ready for her baby steps. More importantly, I am not ready to miss her baby steps! I want to be there for the first step, the moment when she discovers that her feet give her freedom, and her legs give her power. I don't remember what it was like to take my first steps, but I wish I did, and I want to be there for my daughter's so I can tell her exactly when and how she did it.
"The journey of 1000 miles begins with 1 step." One step, one big important step. I'm waiting for it. I'm excited for it. I'm dreading it. One baby step will lead to many baby steps, many baby steps will lead to "big girl" steps, "big girl" steps will lead to running, and once she's running, I know it won't be long before she's gone, and as Dr. Seuss so eloquently put it...oh the places she'll go! ...Baby steps.
Baby steps...
Baby steps... I'm not quite ready for those baby steps yet, even though it may mean that she's one step closer to running her first race with her mother.
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