Friday, November 14, 2008

A moment

Yesterday, for the first time, Zeke and I went for a walk together. Not just me shadowing him while he toddled around our street (we live on a dead-end, so there is much toddling about by little munchkins, and it's all very safe), but the two of us heading down the street and out into the neighborhood, side by side.

Some babies, when they figure out how to walk, aren't all that into it. They get to the point where they can take a few steps, but it's hard to put many steps together with coordination, so they'll continue to crawl for awhile, because it's just easier.

Not Zeke.

This is a child that likes to move. And as soon as he figured out how to take steps, he kept practicing, no matter how often or how hard he fell, until he could truly walk.

And now he's figuring out how to run, sort of. He's not fast, but everywhere he goes, he seems to be half-trotting.

Anyway. So yesterday, he's totally chuffed about being on a walk with Mommy. He's trotting along beside me, stopping occasionally to check out a flower or a stick or to point to an airplane with his chubby fingers and say something resembling, "what's that?"

We walk to the end of the street, and we get to the big cross street. And I'm happy to let him roam around on our little dead end, but I have to draw the line when we get to the street where there are cars, many driven by punky-looking teenagers that have looks on their faces that I want to slap off, even though I don't even know them.

Jesus, I'm getting to be an old fart.

So I look down at Zeke and reach my hand down toward him and say, "baby, you need to hold Mommy's hand when we cross the big street."

I don't think he understands me. I assume that I'll say the words, but that then I will reach down and simply take his hand.

But before I have a chance to do that, he reaches his hand up and takes hold of my fingers. And my heart skips a beat. I can't even deal with how much I love him or how adorable I think he is.

We walk across the street, and even when we've reached the sidewalk, he continues holding onto my hand for a little bit. At one point, he looks up at me and smiles, and I look down at him and smile, and we walk for awhile, holding hands and looking at each other and grinning like a couple of goofballs.

And I know, immediately, that this moment will stick with me for the rest of my life.


  1. Anonymous9:22 AM

    It is the best feeling when those little hands grab your finger because theirs hands aren't quite big enough to fully grasp yours. But then they turn 6 & think they can just cross the street all by themselves all willy-nilly!!! (I'll trade you a 6yr old for your 1 yr old!)

    I'm nearly {insert # here} years old & to this day I still hold onto my daddy's pinky when we are walking together.

    Somethings never change.


  2. Oh, Wendy, this gave me big tears, it's so sweet. Sometimes my dad takes my hand when we're crossing a street, and this protective gesture squeezes my heart.

  3. Okay - this made me all misty, and then the video wrecked me! The way you wrote about it, I know exactly how you feel! Plus, when I look at the pictures of your mom w/ you, and then you w/ Zeke - it is just crazy!!