Thursday, September 26, 2013


And then she fell.
Having a baby who is learning how to walk properly is a lot like having a small drunk person wandering around your home that you are 100% liable for. Things will become mysteriously broken with nobody willing to accept blame. Tears may be shed. Bruises may occur.

You can see the intense concentration on her face while she walks, carefully picking up each foot and figuring out with extreme deliberation where to place it. Sometimes she takes too long and loses her balance, flopping on the floor bonelessly; other times she's successful, heading in a generally forward motion, bobbing and weaving side-to-side like a professional boxer.

I'm  proud of my daughter for being feetwardly mobile. Now she just needs to stop falling into things and I'll stop having mini heart-attacks whenever she's wandering toward a table or something equally hard.

That would be nice.

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