X was taking his solo steps from the sofa to the toy box he did everyday. Instead of realizing his feet could take his body anywhere now, Xander preferred to test and make sure they worked every day, as if sleep somehow took away this new special super power of being bipedal.
If Xander so much as sensed someone was within watching distance, his little (okay, chubby-fall-off-his-face) cheeks would turn magenta, hives would appear on his neck, and he would plop down on his Pampered butt and crawl the rest of the way. It happened every single morning for the past four months. I learned to make myself scarce when he started moving on his own accord and make sure Zoe was engrossed in something else.
Even if his sister could be a defensive lineman for a pro-football team, and liked to show off her tackle skills, she had a heart of gold and would make sure her little man knew she could also throw off her pads and helmet and become his favorite cheerleader. In fact, she was his biggest fan.
Not realizing I was holding my breath, I let out a huge sigh of excitement as Xander went the twenty steps from the couch to his beloved oak chest of goodies. Zoe grabbed my hand and squeezed it, smiling up at me.
Surely she didn't know why I had been quiet and pretending to scrub the dishes that refused to shine?
"He did it, Mom! He's growing up!" she exclaimed with her clammy little hand in mine.
You both are, Zo. You both are!
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