Walking

The past few weeks have been full of pulling on pant legs, whining, and tentatively sticking our feet out to take a step or two. In the past few days, we've progressed into taking five or six steps toward mommy or daddy.

Today, we let go.

We have a stumbly, trippy, not-so-balanced walker. He steps carefully, spreading his arms wide, looking down, and then grinning up at us. He stops to clap for himself with a huge grin that advertises his pride.

It's bittersweet for me. I can remember when he was two weeks old, snuggling him against me after a nursing session and crying. The Smartest Man Alive asked why I was crying and I told him it was because I never wanted Little Man to grow up. I wanted him to stay this small forever. Small enough to fit in his mama's arms and cuddle. I still feel that way. I imagine it will be this way on his first day of school, when he learns to ride his bike, and drive a car.

But, I'll always have these memories to replay in my mind. His first nursing session, the first time he crawled, his first steps.

It's a beautiful life.