Small Victories

When you're a baby, small victories are big victories.

Like when you don't fall flat on your face when Mama lets go of your hands, and you manage to stand all by yourself for a few seconds before lowering yourself to your knees.

And then when you figure out that you can take a few steps on your own before you start to teeter and fall into Daddy's arms.

Or when you manange to climb all the way through the tunnel at the playground that curves up and down. This particular victory has been some time coming--each time we visit the playground, Little Man has tried and tried to get over that last bump, getting so annoyed that he would sit in the middle of the tunnel and ball up his fists and squeal in frustration.

But today was different. I could see it in his eyes when he climbed in the tunnel. Over the first hump like a champ. The middle bump took only a moment, and then he faced the last, steep climb to the end of the tunnel. I sat at the end, watching, as he searched for a foothold to get a leg up. I held my breath when he slipped, waiting for the cry that meant he'd had enough and it was time to go rescue him.

But he didn't cry, and with one final "Ooo!" from him, his tiny shoe found just the right place and there he was, on the other end of the tunnel, all three climbs behind him. He looked so surprised that I had to laugh, and then he looked so pleased with himself that I wanted to cry. I wrapped him up in a big bear hug until he wiggled to get down, then he proceeded to climb back and forth through the tunnel, yelling with excitement whenever he made it to the end. When you're a baby, small victories are big victories.

Same goes for when you're a grown-up, too.