Son #2 has reached a new developmental plateau. Upright walking under the supervised assistance of adult figures and/or wheeled devices specifically designed for midgets. You may recall, Son #2 has been on his own development schedule since pre-birth. Fertilization, birth, satiation, and movement have all been driven by the unorthodox nature of Son #2.


To inspire the young lad to bipedal freedom, a wheeled walker was gifted to him at his first birthday. As expected, Son #2 had more interest in the sounds and lights of the device rather than the unique motile freedom it inspired. Over and over, the shrill sounds and annoying music spewed through our house at a mind numbing frequency. Son #1 had much to do with aiding and abetting Son #2 in this aural annoyance.

But that’s where it stopped. Son #1 brilliantly led by example and scooted behind the walker, once or twice for good measure, in hopes to lure his brother into an attempt. No such luck. In Son #2’s defense, no coaxing or incentive was going to work on his thick skull. Walking? Why? He had been pulling himself up on to furniture in our living room. He showed no fear in lifting himself up next to the CD case of the entertainment center. These all presented opportunities for destruction. Interestingly, an innocent laptop USB port was harmed during the development of this child’s walking skills.


But it wasn’t until his mother ‘gently’ coerced him to stand behind the walker and grab the handle. She left him there to his own devices and his tears. Tough love, mother style. And who knew? He walked under his own power. It was epic, apparently. He fed off of our cheering and the in-your-face hysterics of his brother. All of that was short lived as he traveled from on end of the room to the other. You see, while waddling like an old codger, we failed to explain to him Newton’s First Law of Motion. Objects in motion tend to stay in motion unless acted upon by an external force. And that force was a piece of furniture at rest in his path.

Yes. The walker, under the power of Son #2, immediately stopped when contact was made with our CD cabinet. While I found this event entertaining, Son #2 seemed to be much less amused by his obstructed progress. He made this known by the banshee-like howls and the crocodile tears. Son #2 needed to learn the art of steering. As he approached an object under his own power, we tried to gently turn him to keep him going. We were always a little bit late though. I personally think he accelerated to hit the objects just to keep us from assisting and granting him the freedom to scream. That’s what I would’ve done.

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I had hoped that steering would be lesson two for him but we never quite reached it. At this point, Son #2 wants nothing to do with the business end of the walker. He prefers to sit in front of it and torment us with repetitive music and sounds emitted by this device. If he’s placed behind the walker now, he loses it, drops to the floor, and repeatedly beats his forehead on the ground. Not a problem on the carpet, but this leads to significant bruising and head trauma when performed on the kitchen floor.

Son #2 now has a new approach. He takes our hands and allows us escort him through the house. This is a nonnegotiable approach to mobility for Son #2. He’ll call for you but he doesn’t want you to pick him up. He wants your hands to help him walk around the house. Your only choice as this point is to facilitate the desire of the youth and escort him around until he reaches boredom and returns to making noise with the walker.

The parental-escort role which we now provide is actually pretty entertaining. Son #2 is proud of himself and this new technique. During the entire exercise in mobility, he is vocal about his enjoyment of being able to walk, even if it is under assisted parental power. The smiles, giggles, and screams are a clear illustration of his pride in being more self sufficient. There’s definitely a substantial amount of parental joy in watching the little guy develop. Granted, the schedule was no where near what it was like Son #1. Son #2 is doing things on his terms but needs your hands to do it. But God forbid you let go of his hands before he is ready to return to his crawling position. If you do, you will quickly be alerted by his air-raid like siren of discontent.