So I know this isn’t going to come as a shock, given that I’ve been a little bit giggly and excited all over social media, but I hope you’re about to make a surprised and impressed face. If the wind changes, I’m sure mine will be stuck like this forever. Because somehow, someway, Rufus has decided to sit. And to enjoy sitting even. Years and years of coercing, supporting, pushing. Watching, barely keeping in the tears, as he either flopped over or threw himself backwards. He hated it. He thought sitting was the dog’s fanny. I’m not sure this is opposite to the dog’s nuts, but you catch my drift.
Yet in a mere three weeks he’s found his arse, and it doesn’t need to be near his elbow. He started with what we shall call ‘unaided yet assisted sitting’. A foam wedge, a bit of dycem matting, and leg gaiters. It was hardly a blaze of glory, a slow burn to begin with but we kept going. Call it mother’s instinct, or just sheer bloody minded hopefulness, he was resisting a little less. Thankfully a current obsession with Farm Hullabaloo, one of those infernal noisy books provided a good distraction. Somehow he got it, this could be fun. It caused his hamstrings a little less pain each time, we removed the wedge, then the gaiters. And there he is, now, sitting on the floor. One hand up, both hands up, he gets better everyday. For once in his life, this development now it’s happened, is lightening fast. And he wants to do it. Ask for his hands and he’ll happily assist you in getting him up. His little body, hypotonic and weak wibbles and wobbles with the exertion. But he tries, all day.. And he’s sleeping well for the first time ever.
At 2 years 8 months, he’s surprised me. Shocked me. And this buzz cannot be touched. Did he hear me prod Wolf awake at 2am the other month and say “Why won’t he sit? Why can’t he sit? I don’t get it.” Has he had enough of Dulcie rearranging his hair? Investigating his ear canals? Crawling over him like a monster truck? I’m flummoxed. It’s just His Time. And it’s impact is far reaching- lifting him is easier, he sits better in his pushchair, things just don’t feel as out of reach. His eye contact is better, I just sense he understands more. But there’s the tiniest taint to it. Ask me exactly when Dulcie sat confidently? When she could use both her hands whilst sitting? I couldn’t tell you. She just cracks on, her remarkable ease is unmarked. I hope she knows that whilst she doesn’t get the cartwheels and klaxons of excitement when she achieves, that I am ever so proud of her. That sometimes when I look at her rubbing her spit into the carpet, I’m almost overcome with gut churning love.
So for her, and Rufus, and you all, here’s some little things that make my world.
Girl and Boy
That moment when you go into see your slumbering children, and one gives you a face full of cheek and mirth.
Oh, and covered in toothpaste.
*today also marks the anniversary of a clear amniocentesis for Miss Dulcie*