Brittany's First Steps

Dinner had finished so they retired to the living room, leaving the pile of plates and cups in the sink. After all, dishes will wait, your daughter's potential first steps will not.

Brittany, a curly-haired, energetic, bundle of energy; was their only child. In her ten months on this planet, she was a never-ending source of exploration, undaunted and undeterred by any obstacle (causing mom and dad to have quick reflexes on more than one occasion). Tonight would hopefully be "the night." So, Randy and Teresa patiently watched as Brittany crawled along the brown thick carpet from couch to love seat and back again.

Upon arriving at each target, she would pull herself to a standing position, waver unsurely for a moment (always glancing for approval to mom and dad), and then either inadvertently flop down hard on her diaper-clad bottom, or collapse back to the floor on to her hands and knees, crawling on to the next locale, repeating the process. As Randy told anyone who asked (and many who didn't), "She was ready to evolve from a horizontal noise unit to a vertical one." To prepare for the auspicious event, the house was at the ready; all breakables were relocated, electric sockets were covered, and the digital camera was always nearby.

All that remained was for the star to make her grand entrance.

Brittany let go of the couch, outstretched chubby arms toward Teresa, who snapped up the camera.

"Randy," she called, "This is it!"

"Yeah, I see!" He flipped the switch on the camcorder and the red LED glowed under the lens.

"Come on sweetie," Teresa said, holding out her hand to welcome Brittany in her direction. "You can do it."

"Look at daddy's big girl," added Randy. "Come on Honey!"

A slobbering smile, adorned with four white teeth, crossed her face as she let go of the sofa cushion and wobbled like an infant Frankenstein's monster toward mommy, who was snapping photos as quickly as the batteries would recharge. Dad, low on the ground, trying for an artistic "POV," let the video roll. The budget might have been small, but the scene had all the excitement of any Hollywood blockbuster.

Brittany continued to place one chubby foot in front of the other, staggering ever forward. She took a rickety second step, followed by a shaky third. Losing equilibrium on her fourth, she collapsed on to her bottom and exploded in surprised giggles while she clapped for herself.

Teresa and Randy bolted toward their daughter, joining in the celebration. Scooping her up, overflowing with as much joy and pride as if the little one won an Academy Award, Teresa hugged Brittany tightly and began spinning with her in circles. Randy danced a quirky jig around the both of them, waving his arms overhead like some form of dancing chimpanzee, chanting, "Who's daddy's walking girl? Brittany's her name! That's right! You got it! Uh-huh, uh-huh!"

Brittany clapped. Everyone laughed. Mom cried (so did Dad, but he tried to hide it) and after a few moments, Brittany indicated she wanted back on the floor. After all, there was walking to be done - and nothing was going to stop her now, certainly not after an enthusiastic reaction like this.

One unsure step, slightly awkward, and definitely unbalanced; but she was on her way, one tiny foot in front of the other. She would fall. She would get up again. At times, she might not even know where she was headed, but she knew she'd get there. She just had to keep moving.
7/1/2009 6:37:31 PM
scottqmarcus
Written by scottqmarcus
As a THINspirational speaker and columnist, as well as a recovering perfectionist, I help people and organizations overcome procrastination and perfectionism to accomplish more, be healthier, and enjoy life more.
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