Eight Steps

This is a fun little game we play many times throughout the day.  I place Ivan a couple feet in front of me and before taking my hands off his round fluffy belly, I make sure he has gained some sort of balance. Instantly, he recognizes what is going on and his face lights up.  He has my full attention and it is time to practice his favorite trick of walking on his own.  

Even before letting go, he is in forward motion. I quickly scoot back, extending my arms and wiggling my fingers. In a loud, clear voice, I say "C'mere, Ivan. Come to Mommy."   With his mouth wide as can be, he shoots his arms up high and his little sausage feet are off. Laughing excitedly, Victor and I loudly count his quick steps and cheer him on.  We are beaming with pride and Ivan is soaking it all in. When he gets within inches of me, he dives right into my arms and nestles his face deep into my chest where I hold him for several love-filled seconds, squeezing him tight while still laughing.  This delightful process is repeated again and again, each time gaining more enthusiastic laughter. 

Everyday, he is improving and before I know it he will be running, jumping, skipping and spinning.  In a matter of months, I will look back at these days when my baby's greatest feat was eight solo steps, when he depended on my safe arms to catch him, and I will wonder where the time went.  With this knowledge, I am determined to savor every step.