A red-letter day

By kateandcarla

February 18, 2011

Category: Uncategorized


Yesterday afternoon, Lily crawed up two flights of stairs.

Not bad for a toothless almost-tot who doesn’t have any real prior stair experience :).

Dmitri, of course, was supervising– and I, of course, just happened to be occupied in another room. I’m pretty sure he planned it that way; lately, he makes a whoop-whoop-whoop sound (you know, like a helicopter) whenever my gasps, pursed lips, or repeated queries (babe, are you sure you’re watching her?) interfere with their “activities.”

I’ll admit it: at first, I was nervous. But watching Lily hoist her little body up and over each step was pretty remarkable– and, in many ways, a gentle and inspiring reminder that we know that we can before we believe that we can’t. And, although I have a hard time watching her do anything potentially dangerous/scary/risky, I want to support this can-do spirit that is so clearly ready for whatever’s next.

So when Lily made her way over to the staircase for the second time, I was right behind her– but not too close. I held my breath as she climbed– faster and more confident this time– up those (endless!) steps. And when she reached the landing, she kissed the wall. It was a kiss about gratitude, a kiss about excitement, a kiss about independence.

An I can do this kiss.

And then, still shrieking with pride, she leaned over and kissed me. I’d like to think it was a you can do this kiss.

I kissed her back, counted my blessings, and remembered– finally– to take a breath.

Boy, do I love doing this.


4 Responses to “A red-letter day”

  1. Today the stairs, too soon the driver’s license.

    • Oh, boy. Just the thought scares the daylights out of me… but maybe someone will invent an amazing disaster proof car by then, right? 🙂

      • Kate…And if there’s not a “disaster proof car” by then, I will loan you my “angel foot” automatic-nonexistent-braking device, operable from the passenger seat, that you loved so much when you were learning to drive. 😉

  2. You are giving The Divine Miss L such a great gift — your breathless restraint — and she won’t have a clue that she received it until she is your age with an explorer-tot of her own. Great work, little mama.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: