Two nights ago, we were brushing and flossing, cleaning and putting on pajamas, you know the little kid getting ready for bed drill. It is exhausting and sometimes monotonous. It is adorable and memorable.
I was cleaning up toys and sorting them into their correct bins. In the back of my mind I can hear my husband telling the baby good job about something. I turn just in time to see him (the almost 11 month old) standing and take his first 3 or 4 steps on his own.
We all started yelling and clapping. What a success! How awesome! And how perfect we all got to see it! I am so thankful I turned just in time to see it. I love the firsts. I love to see my little ones succeed. Even if it is just for five seconds and then they fall down. They are trying. And I hope they will get back up and try again.
And it doesn't matter that this is my fifth kid. That I have seen them all take their first steps. It isn't boring. It is still wonderful. It is still something to rejoice about and celebrate. That is what family is. You rejoice with each other. You encourage each other. You mourn with each other. You hold each other. Even if they are learning slow or if you wish you could do what they are doing. You are happy for them. You lift them and they lift you.
If we all try to be a better family, how much more happy this world would be.
(any typos and errors are due to two children climbing in and out of my lap, so I apologize for that. I just figure they want their say.)