Well, Ella has learned how to climb the stairs. This means change around here. I mean for the first 50 weeks and 3 days of her life she was satisfied, even content, with being on the middle level of the house. That is as long as she was able to unravel the tin foil from it’s roll, or pull out every last sandwich baggie from the box (and fyi–they don’t fit back in the box very well) or yank the cereal out of the cabinet, or eat lint out of the trash in the laundry room. (And before you ask, yes, I do watch my child.) But yesterday, once she had figured out the first step, she wanted nothing more than to climb all afternoon long. And for me, that meant standing behind her, listening to her huff and puff and squeal as she got higher and higher. And watching her turn around to look and make sure I’m there, watching her, rooting her on. And when she got distracted by a piece of lint on the stairs, and tried to sit down to check it out, I was there to catch her.
I could just put up another gate.
But then I wouldn’t get to see that little chubby face, that proud smile with all four teeth showing and her eyes wide with delight looking down at me.
And this way, she will know that her Mommy will always be there for her, to cheer for her, and to catch her when she falls.