As I came in the house this morning, Kevin said to me, "Hey, Mom, does Finn pull himself up to stand yet?" "No," I said, "Why?" Kevin said, "Well, he just did it a minute ago." I didn't believe him. Or, rather, I thought he must be mistaken. Maybe he saw Finn pull up on his knees, which he does all the time, and decided that was close enough to call it "standing." He said that he had opened the bench seat by the front door, and Finn crawled over and pulled himself up to a standing position to see what was in the bench. Then he showed me; he opened the bench seat again, making sure Finn saw from where he was sitting, and sure enough, Finn crawled over and pulled himself right up, as if he's been doing this for ages.
And, I of course, sat there clapping and blubbering like a fool (I believe I heard Michael say, "She's having a mommy moment.").
We took the kids to the park a little while later, where Finn pulled himself up to standing repeatedly.
Seems like such a small thing to make such a big deal about, I know. What is the big deal? Finn is 19 months old and this is the first time he's ever done this, that's what. And he's made this leap in progress without having had any physical therapy since early December. When I saw him pull himself up onto his feet with my own two eyes, and I sat there crying tears of pride and happiness, all my second-guessing myself over having reduced his therapy over the last several months went out the window. Suddenly, my faith was restored that he will do the things he's supposed to do in his own time.
Michael said the other night, "Having Finn is like raising a baby in slow motion." It's so true, and really, so wonderful. We get to savor and appreciate each stage, and each step.