Gimme Three Steps, Mister...

In short, Matty’s walking. It’s official. Call your friends and family. Get out the video camera and “make a memory,” buddy. I don’t know best how to describe it, but Friday afternoon, he just decided to get up and take a walk, as if he had it on his schedule of things to do that day. “Let’s see, fill diaper to capacity, smear lunch all over my face, grab the dog in the one place that makes her cry… oh yes, and walk.”

After we returned from picking pumpkins yesterday at our old Alma Mater, we were all hanging out in the front room for some reason or another, and Matthew was playing around his car seat. For the first time I’ve ever seen him, he would stand up, let go of whatever he was holding onto—in this case, the car seat—and he stood there for about two or three seconds before plopping back down on the carpet.

And then, as if the mood struck him just right, he turned to Kara, put out his right foot and took a step toward her, following that with his left and then again his right. He was all over the place, like a high-rise during an earthquake, arms flapping, but he was upright and on his own.

After the three steps, he fell into Kara’s arms with the pure elation only a baby who had just undergone the greatest feat of his life could muster. My boy is walking; next stop, the Olympics!

However, pride for me was soon replaced with skepticism for me, thinking that it was just a fluke. I’m mean, I’ve seen Elsa walk upright before too and that doesn’t mean she’s going to suddenly, only day, saunter into to the room and root through my shoe rack for something to wear. But instead, Matthew wants to do it all the time now, and although his balance is a lot like Bambi’s was, he is slowly getting the hang of it.

Please send shoes.