Walking and Will Part II

It's amazing to me--and I feel a bit ignorant for not seeing this connection before Ian started walking--how walking, how physically being able to move your own body, develops your personality. My god--who knew? Watching this process in a developing child--who knew how much the body and the mind were really connected?

If Ian wants to read a book, he brings it to you. He takes your hand and he places his book of choice INTO your hand. If he wants to get down from his booster seat, he says, Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. Walk. If he wants a drink of water, he goes into the kitchen and gets his sippy cup from the table. If he wants a door closed, he closes it. If he wants to go over to the park, he stands at the front door, puts his face to the glass window, and says, Go way. Go way. Go way. Go way. Go way. Go way. Go way. Go way. Go way. If he wants his vintage Fisher Price telephone to be on top of his parents bed, he puts it there. If he wants a piece of bark to hold (he adores strips of bark that line some of the trails and sidewalks of the park across the street), he goes to pick one up; if he wants to drop one in the creek, he goes to the bridge, holds the bark out, and watches it lay itself on the water's surface. If he wants to sit in a dining room chair, or the lumpy-cushioned clawfoot chair that belonged to the husband's mother, he climbs into it. And if he wants to play while you're chopping onions or checking your email or wiping down the bathroom sink, he comes to find you. And you stop whatever you're doing. You give him the time he wants because time isn't the same as chocolate sauce or another plastic toy. It's much more limited.