Of Taking Steps

Over the past couple of days, the burden of the tiny being growing inside of me has begun to take its toll on my body.  Already simple tasks are becoming more difficult.  Bending compresses the little one inside and I feel it immensely - so I already (at slightly past halfway to the goal) have begun to avoid this motion to the best of my ability.

This shift has led to a sudden urge for my baby boy to learn to walk - finally.  I lament over the fact that by this point in his sister's life she had just begun to run from room to room, while he has yet to take his first timid step on his own.  I am not sure how much longer this bulging belly will allow me to bear the weight of a toddler-sized child in addition to a growing fetus.

Thus, walking practice has begun in earnest in our home.  And Emmett actually seems to be enjoying it.  He takes pride in hiding his tiny hands in ours and boldly, yet confidently, taking one stiff-legged step after another. He may not be able to even hold his own weight on his two legs, yet, but at least he's showing interest in upward motion.

It's all about the baby steps.  Literally.