That's one small step for a boy; one giant leap for his milestones calendar

Now that we’re almost two weeks out, I think that it’s an appropriate time to blog about Easter because two weeks after an event is usually the first spare minute that I have to write about it (and it usually involves Suttie sitting in his baby cage with a sleeve of cookies). The Easter egg hunting went well. Suttie saw an egg, he picked up the egg, and he put the egg in his basket, mastering the basic concept in a matter of minutes. Repeat about 30 times, and you’ve got our Easter experience. He also scored a major haul of foil-wrapped candies. Reason #12 to have kids: they’re excellent candy bait. When they’re young, all the candy goes to you because they’re toothless. When they get older, you have to be craftier, like telling them that a few pieces of their Halloween candy looked “suspect” or that not sharing their Christmas candy “makes Jesus sad.” Either way, kids are the gateway to the candy that you can’t openly buy for yourself. Except when some people (Mom) wisen up and give him raisins (Mom) so that we won’t steal his stuff (Mom).

So Easter was a calm, enjoyable day, but the real magic happened a week later when…wait for it…Suttie took his first real steps. Nope, that’s not a typo; the child can walk! It started off as any normal attempt to get him to walk in which we place him on his feet, he stands there, an hour passes, then we get bored and take him inside. But this time, when we put him on his feet and stepped back, he started stepping, too. Sutton and I were both in a state of honest disbelief. After months of unsuccessful goading and bribing, Suttie was incredibly nonchalant about the whole thing, heading toward Sutton like he’d been walking (albeit unsteadily) for years. Apparently the key was to put him in an environment where he didn’t want to crawl, i.e., the spiky grass. He repeated this feat several times that day – reaching a personal best of 16 steps in a row. Since then, he’s walked some, but not a lot. He’s started to figure out that blades of grass really aren’t barbs designed for his special torment, so he’s reverted to crawling mostly. But he takes a few steps a day, which, for now, is more than enough. As a dear friend pointed out, the important thing is that, at his next checkup, when the doctor asks if he’s walking yet, I can just smile and nod.