One Step Closer: A Boy’s Journey to Walking

If you’ve been following my 365 project this year or saw this week’s Sun-Beams, then you know that Nathan made big progress last week. But you don’t know the backstory.

Cindy, the physical therapist who sees Nathan through Early Intervention, showed up on Tuesday. She was last here four weeks ago and enthusiastically asked, “So, is he walking all over the place now?” Sigh.

No.

No, but he’s graduated from push toys and rearranges furniture instead. Dining chairs, the end table, and the antique telephone table that belonged to my grandmother have all seen some action, but no independent steps. For the next hour-plus, Cindy and I did everything in our power to convince him to take a few steps. We tricked him. We bribed him. We begged and pleaded with him.

Nothing.

In her summary of the session, Cindy wrote:

Tried every trick to get Nathan to take 1-3 steps…Nathan worked around every trick and bribe we came up with…Discussed taking time off from emphasizing walking as a possible way to give Nathan the authority to take steps.

Shasta of Outrageous Fortune published a piece recently on taking a break from therapy, so Cindy’s suggestion sounded reasonable to me. But my gut told me that it wasn’t the best course of action. Nathan was just away for a week at my in-laws’ house, where I’d be willing to bet he didn’t get much encouragement to walk. No offense to my in-laws, but that’s what grandparents are for, right? Waiting on toddler grandchildren hand and foot and not letting their tiny butts touch the ground?

The next day, Sarah Kate had her regular PT appointment. The office is across the bay, so most days Nathan and I stay with her and entertain ourselves while she works (the alternative is leaving to go shopping, which is a really bad idea given that we have to pay for – you guessed it! – therapy). Of course, “entertain ourselves” is a generous description that doesn’t accurately portray the exhausting ordeal that is the weekly appointment. What actually happens is I spend an hour chasing Nathan around the gym, preventing him from escaping, finding an open toilet to splash in, and/or taking a Little Tikes grocery cart away from another kid who is using it for actual therapy. I weighed my options and decided we should work on the pesky walking thing again.

I stood him up against the mat table and tried a few steps with him holding onto one finger. After that, we tried it with me holding one of his fingers – lightly, so I could let go. Finally, I encouraged him to come to me without holding on – a challenge we’d put forward a hundred times before with no success.

But this time, he did it.

I clapped and squealed and propped him against the mat table again. He did it again. This time, Sarah Kate and Dawn, her therapist, were watching, and they clapped and cheered, as well. True to his personality, the extra attention motivated him to keep going. Eventually, we had to stop because he was laughing so hard he could barely stand, even propped against the mat table.

Now if he could just find this much joy in walking by himself everywhere, all the time, we’d be in business.