At 10 Months Old
He has learned to shake his toy maracas.
A few weeks ago he would have been content to explore the maracas with his mouth before dropping it on the floor and scampering off to parts unexplored. He is growing up.
Just last night I taught him how to climb the stairs. He was standing at the bottom, holding onto the beige, carpeted step and trying to figure out what to do. Pausing for a second, I contemplated whisking him off to safer things like his exersaucer or pack and play. However, those things are barriers and he wants to explore. He wants to learn about his world and keeping him caged won’t let him do that. So I bent down and nudged his chubby thigh up onto the step. He shakily hoisted himself up. Then he smiled, a burgeoning gap-toothed grin he inherited from his daddy, and pulled himself up onto another step.
I love that he knows when he’s accomplished something. When he manages to stand unsupported for longer than two seconds he gives me a look, full of surprise and laughter, that says, “I did it!” Then he falls to his diaper-cushioned bum and promptly pulls himself up to standing again.
He’s tenacious because he doesn’t know that someone will eventually tell him to give up.
He’s daring because he doesn’t yet know that there are things he should be afraid of.
He’s ten months old and he’s learning to navigate the world around him. I just try to help him land softly when he falls.