My Gold Medalist

How many times has someone said, "You can always remember where you were when Kennedy was shot or when the challenger explosion happened." Why do we only remember where we were when bad events took place. Nobody has ever asked me where I was when Nelson Mandela was released from prison or asked me about my first dance with a boy. I pondered this recently because I was that one remembers what one chooses to celebrate and it was then that I thought back to one of my biggest celebrations so far in life.

I will never forget the day. It was cool September morning and Julian and I were up to our usual routine of breakfast and coffee together. Julian was full of spunk that morning. He wore his dark blue pajamas with feet in them and he sat in his highchair with a huge grin. He was eating a banana and he had figured out that he could throw food down to his best friends the pugs. Their snorting and sniffing around for anything he dropped made him giggle and unfortunately caused me to have to sit facing Julian's high chair to watch the shenanigans closely. So while Julian ate and watched my every move in hopes I would turn my head and he could feed his buddies, I drank my coffee and tried to keep from laughing or screaming at 5am. After what seemed like the longest breakfast ever, Julian and I made our way to the living room floor to play.

Our play started out as usual, with the blue fish mat. The blue mat that Julian laid on daily could be used for either tummy time or time on his back. That day we started with Julian laying on his back. There was arch above his head and from it hung little fish that made noise when buttons were pushed. Julian's giggle was loud as he and talked to each little fish and began reaching for them. I was still in a morning fog as this happened. I wasn't present in the moment. In fact I was spending much of the time staring out the back window and not even watching Julian. As I stretched and yawned, Julian cooed and babbled. Soon the babbles turned to whimpering and my attention was then placed back to Julian. He wasn't crying but he was frustrated with his position. I was frustrated with his position as well since he refused to change it for himself. I reached over and pulled his right leg across his body causing him to twist enough to flip over to his tummy. He loved being able to move and with great pride giggled and looked to me for praise. I smiled at him through my sleepy eyes and said," Good Job Bubbie!"

His little head dropped to his hands and he began to talk to them. Each misunderstood word was said as thought he was giving himself the pep talk I couldn't muster up for him. Then within seconds Julian began to army crawl toward a toy just a few feet in front of him. I was immediately taken from an almost zombie like state to adrenaline running through my veins like I was watching a gold medalist at the Olympics about to cross the finish line. With each movement Julian made, he grunted as though it took every ounce of energy he had to move forward. His little arms did all the work as he dragged his legs behind him. My eyes filled with tears as my son overcame his fear of moving. As the tears poured down my face I knew he would forever be changed by knowing his own strength He never looked back to see where I was or what I was doing. Instead he set his sights to a path that only he could take and he had to do it alone.

When Julian reached the toy he set out for he finally looked my way. I smiled through my tears but it was to late Julian saw me crying and so he joined me. Within seconds he was crying large crocodile tears and he had no idea why. I wiped my eyes in hopes to show him I was okay. I picked him up and set him on my lap facing me. I put my hands around his little face and wiped his tears with each thumb and said, "Mommy is so proud of you little man. You did it!"

From that day forward Julian never stopped moving and I never stopped being in awe of every move he made.