MOTORIN!

Sadie is 19 months old now. Around the 18 month mark, she took her first independent steps. She promptly stashed this skill in her pocket and took it out again only on very rare occasions.

"So I did that," she seemed to say. "Why should I bother doing it again?"

She still whined and hesitated each time we prompted her, "Walk walk, Sadie!" She still reached out for my hand before taking a step. She still burst into annoyed tears if I refused to do so, and would fall to her knees to crawl after whatever it was she wanted. Walking simply wasn't a skill she was interested in refining.

I guess I'd always figured that on the day she finally walked without our help, she'd never ask for it again. This wasn't the case. I can understand why. It takes tremendous effort for her. She struggles to lift each leg then plops it back down again, giving the impression that they're made of cement rather than skin and bone. Keeping her balance is difficult. She has a long way to fall.

So we've continued to be patient, and to prompt her while letting her figure it out at her own pace. (I remind myself that while most kids her age don't have this problem, the twelve month-olds at the park are looking at her and thinking, "Looking pretty steady there, stretch. What's your secret?")

Then this weekend happened. Beginning with Friday, really. We went to Balboa Park with my friend Liane and her daughter Sophie to see the ducks, and Sadie walked a lot holding my hand. Then after nap time was school, which always seems to motivate her. She spent a good fifteen minutes walking up and down a ramp in the outside playground, with the help of a couple of the teachers (she's a class favorite). Then Teri brought Addy over for a play date, and the two girls played in the back yard for the rest of the afternoon.

Then, yesterday. What happened that clicked in my daughter's head? I'll never know exactly what it was. Sadie and I met Grandma and Grandpa (my parents) at UCLA and spent the morning walking around campus, looking at the Bruin statue and splashing in the inverted fountain and counting steps and eating fries at the food court and rolling down grassy hills. There were birds and squirrels and people singing and dancing and laughing everywhere. Sadie could barely stand being in her stroller. She mostly walked between us, holding our hands, chattering constantly.

After we came home that afternoon, I tried to take her for a walk in the stroller and she complained the entire time, demanding to walk. Once we got home, she got out of the stroller and that was it -- she took off across the room like it was nothing.

And she hasn't stopped since.