Well, not those. Those are the two steps she took when I was trying to coerce her to walk with promises of Elmo just so that I could get it on camera. But you get the general idea, right?
Jeff flew in on Friday night. This was his last month of travel, praise the Lord and pass the ammunition. He’s been gone for four out of the last five weeks and I was really hoping that Scarlette would wait to take her first steps when he was home. I knew she was getting close so I was ecstatic when, on Saturday, she took five unassisted steps from me to him.
I was expecting her to do the weeble-wobble baby walk but instead she was slow and methodical, standing very straight and taking tiny, precise steps across the living room floor to her daddy.
She cried the entire time, soft little tears with a perplexed expression that said “I’m moving? I’m moving! I don’t understand what’s happening here!”
And then for the rest of the night she would randomly stand up, take a few tentative steps and proceed to clap for herself.
Remember when my baby weighed a pound and a half and we were all praying that she would just breathe?
She is walking. She is WALKING!
I remember when well-meaning people offering words of comfort would say “this time next year she’s going to be running around” and I would weep because I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see that future through my view of her hooked up to seven different IV pumps and a machine that took her breaths. But here it is.
Fourteen months old. Eleven and a half months adjusted. Walking.
“Give thanks to the Lord and proclaim His greatness…remember the marvelous works He has done” – Psalm 105.5
