Caleb is walking. OK. Just take a second and digest that. Caleb. Is. Walking.
You may not know Caleb. So him walking may be as exciting to you as hearing that it's sunny out. But, Caleb is this guy. The coolest little guy that I occasionally get to hang out with when his mom and dad are out saving the world... or working. We've had many bonding moments. I've fed him. I've rocked him to sleep. I've baby danced with him. I've schooled him on America's Next Top Model. And, now, he's walking.
I met Caleb a year ago last week. It was in the hospital. He was almost as long as a sub sandwich and as small as a wiener dog. It was snowing outside. It was cold. It was awesome.
Now he races around the house while going through cabinets and trying to open any locked door he can get to. It's insane to watch how every single thing he sees or touches intrigues him. Pots and pans? Amaaaaaaaazing. The dog's tail? Amaaaaaaaazing. My socks. AMAAAAAAAAAAZING.
I think it's one of the best things to watch. It's a new brain totally being formed.
Anyway, I said he was walking which is cool because, uh, he's walking. Walking is good. Walking is awesome. Walking. Is. Exhausting. And I'm not talking about him. I'm talking about me.
"Yo! Caleb, let's read!" I'll exclaim excitedly while watching him jet towards the dog.
Nope. He wants to walk. Everywhere.
While he finally wore himself out and took a nap, I slouched in the couch after only two hours of chasing after him. I couldn't stop thinking about Megan and Christopher, his parents. They do this all the time. They both work full-time jobs, have tons of outside stuff going on, and chase after a baby. As I tilted my head back and closed my eyes I kept thinking: Damn, they're good.
Then I started to think about my parents, especially my mom . While growing up, my mom stayed home. For a good eight years, she chased after my brother and I day after day. This was her job: 1)Get up. 2)Make sure her boys have a fun morning chasing after the family dog or going down the slide or rolling around in blocks or reading stories or crawling in to empty boxes or run in this direction and then that direction and then here and then there. 3) Nap 4) Do it all over again.
Every. Single. Day.
While getting a half hour of quiet time, I finally understood why my mom is who she is. Why it was hard to watch me go to my first school dance. Why it was tough to see my driver's license picture. Why she cried while helping me unpack boxes in my dorm room. Why she hugs me longer and longer the more I see her.
Because she had all that time to chase after me while protecting me from sharp corners, stove doors and falling to hard on my butt. Now, she has to let me chase after the things I want most in life: love, family, friends, career, kids, vacations in exotic places where the hotels are pricey and the drinks are strong.
We grow up fast. We start walking. We start running. Then all of the sudden we are racing along in life forgetting how we got there.
When Caleb woke up from his nap, I fed him pineapple pieces.Which, as a kid, were my favorite. He babbled on about, well, something and smiled at me while trying to share his pineapple(which, rumor has it, he loves too). It just sorta felt like it was his way of saying "Thank you". I couldn't help but smile back.
That night, on my walk home, I called my mom.
"Hi, Mom? Thank you..."
"For what?" She responded sounding a little bit confused.
"Pineapple."