He goes wherever he wants, these days. He stands up in the middle of the floor, walks across, and changes directions when something new catches his eye. If anyone feels like a little chase, he’s only too happy to run away. With a spotter, he can take the stairs, and with a little reminder he’ll even spin around to go feet first off of any elevated surface. Dangle dangle, little toes. Then grab the ground and sprint away.
From his little front room, he can creep up the step stool we painted in the summer. It’s the perfect spot to view the neighbors walking up and down the sidewalk, the garden growing in our front yard, and the HUG farm volunteers checking in on turnips in the right-of-way. He sings a song to them, and sometimes taps on the window.
Edie joins her brother to look out and to investigate the toys from his shelves. Seeing a big kid handling the treasures is a great provocation; he peers intently at pictures, or shape blocks, or animals she sets down. They talk together in a wiggly body language they both know by heart.
Every day his world is getting bigger, and it all starts in his own little room.