Baby Steps

All stay-at and work-from-home moms should hire a sitter at least one afternoon a week, if only to be reminded of how much our babies love us.* In our house, it's Ryan, gone all day and home to play, who gets greeted at the door with ecstatic baby shrieks and gummy smiles. It's almost like everything Cass has whined and pined for all day has been in want of this single climatic moment, the previous fits of feisty crankiness dissolving into a rapture of giggles as he and his Dad go through their nightly comedy routine of mime-like palming and funny faces through the smudgy finger-printed pane of glass.

So unfair, considering I'm the one who takes him to the park every day, pushes him in the swing, cuts up his cantaloupe and peaches in itty-bitty baby-sized bites, strolls him around the neighborhood until we're dizzy, sings silly nursery rhymes i have to look up online, drives all the way to IKEA for a single push toy I think he'll like. I am the buyer of cheerios, the consummate breastfeeder, the program director. As much heart-melting enjoyment as I get from watching Cass and his beloved papa (it's one of my very favorite things about being a mom), I must admit: I would like a giddy little dance in my honor every now and again, too.

Tonight, I am on the receiving end. I came home from being away most of the afternoon to find my little guy nearly sprinting from the front room through the dining room and into the kitchen, gasping for air and teetering and squealing and waving his arms all the way. He is walking! All by himself! He has been experimenting with walking for the past month or two, testing the delicate, well-calculated few steps on for size only after making sure there's little opportunity for falling. He walks back and forth between Ryan and I, our legs spread out in the shape of a diamond on the floor. Or from a table to the couch. The toilet to the window sill. His routes are predictable and safe. Cass is a very careful baby.

But tonight, on April 4th--exactly one month before his first birthday and strangely, albeit probably coincidentally, at exactly the same time he came into this world (6:40pm)--Cass was so excited to see me (!) that he forgets about caution and care and stumbling and falling. He isn't holding anyone's finger or feeling his way along the cabinets or bending to his knees to avoid losing balance. Cass takes about 30 unassisted steps, not losing eye contact for a skinny second.

I scoop him up, squealing right along with him, pulling his fuzzy head into my neck. He looks up at me with those big brown eyes, so full of pride and adoration, and plants a big, mushy, wet, open-mouthed kiss on my lips.

Pure joy!

Proving my point that you have to leave to come home again. But as a new mom, it's baby steps for me, too.


*for reasons also including, but not limited to: conversing with other adults, rehabilitation of otherwise lacking social skills, a moment of non-nap-dependent peace, engage brain in cognitive thought (and potentially use college degree), nurturing of spirit, a manicure.