“A Journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” –Lao Tzu
I’ve been struggling lately to give full credit to Charlie and his latest accomplishments. When he was a baby, I recounted every detail because they were all victories–all things we were never sure he would do.
These days things feel less urgent. Charlie sees, he crawls, he even sits. He eats with his mouth and drinks thin liquids. He listens, he responds, he plays independently. In many ways, the scariest of the scaries are past us. I mean, there’s plenty of lingering scaries, but nothing that keeps me up at night.
But it does feel a little weird to list all the tiny accomplishments that fill me with joy–as if I’m making a big deal out of the trivial.
But I’ve realized that these “trivial” moments all add up to the big ones. And why not savor the little moments? Why rush through or sweep under the rug the dozens of tiny inchstones we work so hard for?
So, without further ado, here are a few of our latest victories.
- Charlie asks for help–he’ll either grab your hand or hit you to get your attention.
- He can sit in chairs. It’s not fantastic, but he can sit next to me in a waiting room and doesn’t need to be held.
- If I hold his wrist, he can point with his left hand. Personally, I think he could do it without me, but he doesn’t want to try.
- He can now slurp–sounds small, but it’s a big jump as far as drinking goes–he used to just dump water in his mouth.
- He can rotate while seated on the floor.
- He holds his head very straight when riding in his chair.
- He looks up at the waitress when we eat out.
And now for the big one that feels more like a milestone than an inch: yesterday I got Charlie to answer questions about his family using the iPad. He knew who was a boy, who was a girl, who he eats breakfast with, and who loves him. Today he’s showing me that he knows how to close the communication app ASAP, but I saw a glimmer of the future there–one where he can tell me what he thinks and feels. I’m breathless with the possibilities.