I know I know I don't usually do two posts in one day, but this deserves it!
My husband dropped T off at nursery this morning in a reversal of our usual roles. I picked him up, received the obligatory report on how much lunch he'd eaten (lots, it was his favourite today, Baked Bean Pie) and how many nappies they'd changed, and brought him home for tea. After he tried force feeding Mummy Shepherd's Pie which had been on the floor (yum!) I put T in the lounge with Iggle Piggle for company whilst I cleaned under the high chair and, wouldn't you know, he walked across the room. Not just one step, not just two, a whole succession of steps, giggling like a loon as he went! My baby, who went to nursery this morning crawling and cruising, as he has done for almost 7 months (!!) got up and went, just like that. It was as if someone had flicked a switch.
Of course I called my husband straight away, who didn't answer. I called my Mum, who rather rained on my parade by mentioning that the eponymous Kevin in Lionel Shriver's 'We Need to Talk ...' had learnt to walk in secret (way to panic me!) but was really pleased. I finally got hold of my husband who was shocked, his voice tinged with just the smallest regret that on a regular day he'd have been the one standing agape, filthy cloth in one hand, as our pride and joy took his first little big steps in the world. Sometimes being a working parent sucks.