Toddler

We bought TWO red Ikea end tables a while back, because for some reason we thought that what the apartment really needs is more tables. I think that I thought it and then talked S into it. We ended up having a dining room table, 2 end tables, and two coffee tables, all in our living room. We have subsequently gotten rid of one coffee table and the dining room table (and chairs). They are currently residing at my parents house. The end tables have been moved around a few times, as we have been making more and more room for the massive amount of toys that have been creeping into our lives. We realized that the end table is sized perfectly as a kid's table. So yesterday S went to Ikea and bought two red miniature chairs. And today at lunch Z sat at his very own table on his very own chair and ate a meal. It was really spectacular. Moments like these are really what make life wonderful. A year ago he couldn't lift up his head. Now he's sitting on a chair (without the aid of a 5-point harness) eating by himself, drinking water from his sippy cup.

Oh, and he's WALKING! Somehow that doesn't leave as big an impression on me as the eating thing. Perhaps because it's been a progression. He's been slowly replacing crawling with walking. A few steps there, a few steps here, and before we knew it, he's walking from one end of the apartment to the other, like he's been doing so all his life.

I have always had an irrational fear of death. Perhaps it's because I don't believe in an afterlife. Death is the End of life. And that saddens me. But I think that if I were to die tomorrow, I'd be okay with it. My life, up to this point, is everything I have ever hoped for. Sure, there are more children to bear, a career to figure out,  and a heck of a lot more roads to travel. And the rest of my life to live out. But should disaster strike, I have no regrets.