Until this weekend, that is.
I'm not sure what the trigger was. It could be that he wanted to show off to his grandparents, who were staying with us for the weekend. Or perhaps he wanted to join his peers, several of whom have been toddling around on two feet for a while now. Or maybe he decided it was just time to make the change.
Whatever the reason, he has spent much of the last two days strutting confidently across the room in the manner of John Wayne after a really long day in the saddle. (Although in the picture below he does appear to be doing a version of Peter Crouch's famous robotic dance, or thinking about karate chopping the father who's trying to take photos of him at 5.30 in the morning.)
Anyhow, the genie is out of the bottle and there is no going back. It won't be long before we are having to chase after him everywhere we go; I'm fully expecting he will run like he crawls: at top speed. He's already zooming around the house to reach up and pull books from bookshelves, wine bottles from wine racks, and basically pretty much anything he can lay his hands on.
A new phase has begun. At times, I imagine it's going to be hell. But it's also going to be lots of fun. With spring - and its promise of longer, warmer days - fast approaching, I'm very much looking forward to getting outdoors with a football and teaching Zac to kick it. (I don't imagine it will be long before he is teaching me, with my two left feet ...)
Incidentally, in a separate but related footnote, I'm currently reading Rohan Candappa's Autobiography of a One Year Old. It's brilliant. I wonder if that's how my little boy looks at his world?
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