If you want to get all technical about it, the tots are fifteen and a half months old. But given that they were in tiny boxes trying to fatten up in a hospital for eight weeks, we’re told to give ’em some gestational slack. Until they turn three years old, we’re to refer to their adjusted age, which would mean that they’re now thirteen and a half months old. It makes sense, considering they still should have been cooking for another 10 weeks in incubators.
I’m by no means worried, just reporting. Lucas doesn’t walk, yet. No, that’s not quite right. He walks along walls and all the furniture, climbs stairs, and up onto dangerous monster toys, then figures out how exactly to get back down (sometimes it’s on his head, other times, ever so slowly, he lands on both feet).I love to watch him figure it out, especially when he’s on his belly, that one foot feeling around, measuring its way down to the carpet. His first word was a few months ago. Baby. I imagine baby came first because whenever I see him, I say, "Hello my beh-be" in a random French accent. I don’t know why. There’s no excuse for a man to wear a beret, and I have no immediate plans to teach him French. "Oh, my beh-be, you’re very sweet. Yes, who’s my sweet bean?" I cannot help myself. Whenever I speak to Lucas, it’s as though I’m chatting it up with Linus. How I love them both.
Luke (I find I’m calling him that now) says ball, baby, hi, hey, Papa, bye, hat, go, and car but walking he doesn’t do. Not on his own anyway. I’ve of course heard the comparison drawn between infants and the elderly, from diapers to feedings. But I’d never once imagined a toddler with a granny walker.We have both a physical and occupational therapist come once a week. Recently, they left what can only be described as a hollowed shopping cart. It’s made of aluminum, I believe. Shiny. The more he practices walking, the more comfortable. Yes, this is all assuming his sister won’t mow him down with it.
Not only does Kind Sir have a "pediatric walker," he’s also been given a girdle. The girdle was designed to keep his upper legs together, but it wasn’t effective. Next, came in a corset, a leg corset, or "leg guards" if you will, to keep his legs straight. To look at him, you’d know none of this. Having a sister who has been prancing about like a sprite since she turned nine months hasn’t exactly motivated him. He’s on his own timeline, and I don’t blame him.
Still, our goal is my stepsister’s wedding in September, where he will be a ring bearer, and where Little Miss will be the flower girl. Either way, on his own or with the walker*, he’s a little adorable dumpling, who also says agua (he’s learning Spanish).And just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen is when Abigail stands behind him, grabs the handle, and pushes him like he’s a shopping cart. I MUST get this on film!
*And as a side note, I deleted my un-pc reference, mostly because I tend to make fun of things that scare me. So please forgive the insensitivity.
