Sitting on His Own

Luke's nose is stuffed up and while he’s eating, the snot in his nose blows around and makes him sound like a lawn mower or a weed eater.

Luke is doing really well sitting on his own. He still rolls right over if he gets distracted by something just outside his reach. He hasn’t figured out that he’ll fall over if he goes for it. Somehow it’s like he thinks he’s just going to walk towards it or it will come to him; it’s like he doesn’t know he can’t walk or crawl or use his jedi powers to draw things to himself using only his mind. But he has learned to catch himself so he doesn’t bump his head on the floor. Useful skill, that. He rolls down lightly. I try to put blankets around him still so that there’s something soft to land on, but he ends up grabbing them and pulling himself down anyway. Oh well. What’s a mom to do?

This morning I set Luke down on the rug by the back door so he could look outside and he sat there by himself while I wandered around cleaning up. When I sat down behind him at the kitchen table he looked over his shoulder at me, gave me a big wet grin, looked back out the window and flapped his arms like a little bird too fat to take flight.