Every day when I get home from work, I am regaled – by Lynnette’s parents or Lynnette herself – with tales of Avery’s improving walking ability. Every time, I throw the tie to the ground, step over the fence into the play area, whip my phone out, and try to encourage her to walk so I can capture these reported steps on video. And, every single time, Avery refuses to cooperate.
Cole is pretty adept at walking around; it’s to the point where I trust him to walk alone unless there are obstacles in his way (toys, Abby’s toys, etc.) or a chance he could bang into the entertainment unit or fall off the couch. Avery still struggles to put a good series of steps on. This divide reminds me of that summer after my junior year of college when I and half of my friends were 21 and could legally drink at bars while the other half of my friends were late-born and could not. Sometimes we went out, but there were still a lot of pseudo-parties in garages. When we take the family out, Cole wants out out out of the stroller so he can walk around, and Avery wants out out out, too – but she has to be carried. That leaves Madison to push the empty stroller, which is bad news for the ankles of anyone in the immediate area.
I have called Avery a troll for nearly her entire life, and during these past few frustrating weeks, she has done nothing to convince me otherwise. I always set up a few feet away from her, outstretch my arms, and utter words of encouragement. If this happens when as soon as I get home, she seems excited to see me – so much so that she claps her hands, falls, then crawls over to me. I suppose I can’t blame her – she’s still faster on all fours. After my narrow victory over #HItraffic yesterday, Lynnette told me Avery was walking all over the place so I tried to get it on video. Here’s what she did:
It’s all classic Avery. I tried to entice her with the clacking of linked wooden balls. Lynnette takes away her bottle of lotion (a fine Christmas gift idea), and Avery’s first response is to whine. Look how she clings to the gate with one hand. Look how she crumbles and threatens to rage quit. Look how she takes two quick jab-steps before being completely distracted by yet another DVR’d episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.
But, since Lynnette is not a quitter (unless we’re talking about some kind of crazy fad – and to be clear, we are not), she continued to urge Avery to walk. And so, it is with great, great pleasure that I present to you footage rarer than an alleged Bigfoot sighting:
I apologize for my shouting in the video if your volume was up pretty high. My bad. I was so excited! There’s just something about this kid, you know? She’s barely over a year old and she’s taken me into the abyss and back. Everything, even the little things like this seem like gifts I shouldn’t receive; they fill me with joy but also the feeling like I’ve gotten away with something. I cannot even imagine what the rest of our time together will look like.