I was cleaning the kitchen when Lucan toddled in, all clean from his bath. He wore a huge grin and some red and black Montana pajamas that family members gave us when Charis was a baby. It dawned on me that my days of seeing him crawl into the kitchen are officially over. In less than a week he has gone from taking 2 to 3 steps at a time to plodding steadily all over the house, fists up by his cheeks for balance, heading for no particular place, content just to practice his new skill.
As I gazed at him a bit misty-eyed, he wandered over to his chair and dug out some morsels leftover from who knows how many meals ago, stuffing them into his mouth hastily. I guess that's another milestone--he can now get his own meals!