Yesterday he decided that it was time to walk with the assistance of one finger. When he tired of that he learned how to go DOWN the steps. He has been going up them since he was 6 months old and has been working on "feet first".
I told my husband yesterday that he would be walking within 2 weeks. I should have said momentarily. Today he decided to take his hands off of the desk and walk a few steps. He stood there totally unsupported and when he saw my excitement he grinned. He knew he was doing something big. He has done it several times since but I haven't recorded his walking yet. I wasn't prepared and was too excited to grab a camera.
I savor the baby moments with this one. I delight in his excitement and love of exploring. I try to keep ahead of him, to keep him safe. He does his best to keep me on my toes. He has broken child safety locks, can open sippy cups and just about any food container (his 8 teeth help), knows how to open doors, and knows when the bathroom door is ajar so he can play in the water.
He knows no fear. When he decides to dive bomb off the couch he expects that mom or dad will have his foot. When he wanders off to explore he will eventually call for us to come to him. He knows that we will come. He trusts us. He has never had to go to sleep hungry, never cried and didn't get a response (actually he gets an overwhelming response of parents and siblings).
I have heard that babies that do not go home with their biological moms have separation trauma. They know their moms and know that they aren't with them. I feel that it is true. I could feel the day he decided that I was mom. It wasn't immediate. I would say it was about 2 months. But, it did happen, he did accept us. He loves us as much as we love him. He belongs.