Anna was there for Sofie’s first step. Appropriately enough, it was at the Skokie Public Library, where Anna used to work before her new career as a mom, during the baby storytime. Since then Sofie has taken one or two more steps, the most recent being Wednesday afternoon while at the beach.
As Anna recounted to me Sofie’s first steps, I have to confess, I got a bit teary-eyed. I had so wanted to be there for her first step. But just like the first time Sofie rolled over on her own, I missed her first step because I was at work. I was, am, so very disappointed. I missed a very big event.
But Sofie must have heard me in her sleep while Anna told me about the steps on the beach and I voiced my sadness at missing them, because yesterday my daughter gave me a great gift.
I had rushed home to collect my books for my evening class–and, truthfully, to see Anna and Sofie at least for a few minutes during my long day. They were playing out in the yard behind our apartment. (Yes, I know. A yard. In Chicago. Behind an apartment.)
Anna tried to get Sofie to stand up and take a step for me. And after a few unsuccessful tries . . . it finally happened! My daughter took a step for me. I was thrilled. It was amazing. Can you believe it? My daughter is really starting to walk!
But that was not the end of it. Anna and Sofie tried again. And would you believe it? Sofie followed her step . . . with another one! Two in a row.
I still am trying to get my mind around this! My daughter is going to walk. I had dreams last night of Sofie walking. Wonderful! Amazing! Extraordinary!
Also, Sofie is learning to feed herself. For some time she has used her chubby (and grubby) little hands to shove crackers, pretzels, fruit, and so on, into her mouth. But lately, feeding her has become a battle. We couldn’t figure out why–till we put a spoon in her hand. Case in point: this morning’s breakfast. Sofie fought me from the first bite. She didn’t want to have anything to do with my feeding her. We had oatmeal everywhere. Then I gave her her special spoon. She dug into the bowl, got (by chance) some oatmeal on her spoon, and got it to her mouth. I shoveled in between her attempts, and we had a very nice, and full, breakfast. If a bit messy.
And in light of such momentous events, I’ve culled the rest of the blog entries here on the main page to get rid of the fluff (which is what politics is) and keep the things that really matter.