Step Child

Our condo has changed. It turns out a small child is like a cyclone. They start out innocently enough – they’re small, not too destructive, can’t travel very far – but then they grow. A box of toys they could barely pull themselves up to see inside, becomes an arsenal of squeaky obstacles and battery-operated ankle-twisting mines.

Hurricane Finley made landfall Saturday afternoon around 11am. Her path of destruction can be followed from just east of the sectional moving westward across the living and dining room into the nursery. Barnyard animals were left strewn about several feet from Old McDonald’s Press and Play Barn. One survivor, known only as “Tickle Me Elmo” could only repeat to himself frantic cries of “AGAIN, AGAIN!” Most of the inhabitants of The Hundred Acre Wood were left unharmed, but physically shaken.

This is what happens when you combine a short attention span with mobility. By the time Finley hit her noon nap, she had looked at and/or tasted every toy she owns. Not satisfied with the things allotted her, she began to go after things that she’s not to supposed to mess with. Things like the fireplace and the DVD player and speakers. Things we say “no” to, that when translated to the baby vernacular come across as “Not while we’re looking.”

Now, normally you might think that her going after things a bit dangerous or breakable would be a bad thing – and it is – but acting on her curiosity is actually helping her get smarter and it’s teaching her to walk.

In her mind, the fact that we don’t want her to touch something means she has to touch it all the more. And the things that are way off limits are the ones we go to extra lengths to keep her out. Whether it’s the little gate that leads to the kitchen or the plastic cover on the DVD, she wants to know what the big deal is and her little brain is trying to figure out how to break in.

She’s learning to try and move things in her way. She’s studying the barriers in front of her, searching for a crack in the shield. And Heather and I both know if we let our guard down at all, she’ll slip right through. She’s like a Navy Seal Cub… Except she’s kind of noisy. If she gets through an opening in a door, for instance, she’ll squeal with glee, blowing her cover. Giver her time though, and she’ll figure that out, too.

But the thing she’s learning the most is balance. Many of these taboo items are out of her reach which makes her resort to pulling herself up to a standing position to try and reach. And as she reaches, she’s starting to rely less and less on objects and more and more on herself. When she’s not thinking about it, she can stand in one place for quite some time. This standing is leading to walking.

The speed crawl is still her transportation choice, but every now and then she’ll venture out with a step or two before plopping down on her diaper-padded bum. Despite the fact we will probably regret this in the long run, Heather and I have been playing with her and getting her to take more steps. In fact, just tonight she doubled her previous record of four and made eight steps before dropping to the floor in front of her toys. (You can watch it right here)

So now our little mess maker is about to go bipedal. She’s on the verge of becoming an upright-walking ape and discovering the world from the soaring height of two feet. And as much of a great accomplishment that is, something tells me that as a parent, I’ll be bent over a whole bunch trying to catch a small girl who’s running off with my shoes and giggling furiously.

Which means Hurricane Finley will begin to leave and even longer and bigger path of destruction. Which means we’ll have to teach her to pick things up. But as they say, it’s all one step at a time.