Then and Now (Part 3) - Walking on Sunshine

Then: 1.5 months - Remember the July 2009 "Kickin' Coaster" post? (You can catch it here if you need a refresher: ) We described Gavin as "our little mountain climber" and a mover and shaker.

Now: 6 months - Gavin started pulling himself up to a standing position and trying to climb furniture. He refuses to sit and instead belly scoots to you (imagine something ala Stripes with Bill Murray yelling, "Never leave a man behind!"), climbs up onto your lap, turns around, and grabs your fingers like they are his personal reins as he yells "giddyup!" (or, at least, pulls on your fingers, rocks back and forth, and grunts). Being the novice parents that we are, Daniel and I accommodate, no encourage, this "walking."

7 months - Still refuses to sit. Legs. Must. Be. Moving. Mom and Dad are thoroughbreds. (Plus, let's admit it, we're not particularly tall so we don't have to bend down that far to walk holding onto Gavin's hands.) We're surviving and we're still so proud.

8 months - Still moving. Still refuses to sit. Must. Kick. Ball. For hours. NO, seriously, hours. I feel guilty that Gavin is at daycare during the day where his teachers obviously cannot give him the individual attention that he needs (read, demands) and probably cannot spend all day walking him around the room playing soccer with whatever toy crosses his path. So, at night, we walk. And walk. And walk. And walk. And kick. And kick. And kick.

9 months - Alright kid, let's get a move on. You may have started this, but Mom and Dad are going to finish it. We're practicing because Mom and Dad are about to be taken out to pasture. We're cutting the reins, or at least we're trying. Unfortunately, it works like a kill switch. Gavin is walking us around the room, I mean Speedy Gonzalez style walking around the room, holding onto both hands. You quickly slip one hand away and FREEZE. Midstep. Followed by a full blown toddler style temper tantrum where he throws his head back and arches his entire body backwards (which is precarious considering you're holding onto only one of his hands) until you again give him both of your hands. And the switch is instantly flipped back. No more tantrum. No more crying. Just walking.

Thankfully, we've discovered that he loves to push his cart across the room, which means no more humpback-of-notre-dame-style walking for Mom and Dad. He walks from one end of the room, bang, hits the wall on the other side. Mom, turns the cart around. He walks to the other side of the room, bang, hits the opposite wall. Dad, turns the cart around. You get the picture.

10 months - "I may be walking in circles, but I got this Mom, leave me alone." Why did I ever want him to walk holding onto only one hand? Please, remind me. Because now, he still crawls (or cruises) over to you, sits in your lap, grabs both hands, stands up, and then throws one of your hands away to walk with just your other hand. The problem? His balance and coordination are still a little off and he ends up walking in a circle - to the right if it is your right hand, to the left if it is your left hand. This do-si-do is fun for the first 10 or 15 minutes, and then I get dizzy. I try to grab his other hand, but he pulls ninja tricks, hiding it or rolling it so that it is impossible to hold onto.

Having said all of this, watching the look on his face as he practices and then masters each new motor skill has been amazing. He is a determined little boy. I know exactly where he gets it. A few months before Gavin was born, Daniel kayaked 65 miles in a single day after having previously kayaked a total of three times for a total distance of, maybe, 5 miles. Daddy D and Little G power through it. And although it means a (nearly) one-year-old has got us by the reins, his determination is a wonderful quality.

11 months and 3 weeks - Watch out world, he walks.