Inchstones is the term a friend uses for measuring the progress of our children. Forget milestones; that endless roll of holds head up, rolls over, sits up, crawls, walks, all before the child's first birthday. We celebrate the inchstones - my two year old balanced upright for half a minute this morning, WOOHOO! My five year old held her head up and looked me in the eye, HURRAH! My teenager didn't scream when we watched my choice of DVD, CELEBRATE!. Tiny things to the world at large; huge to those who know the child. I love it; I watch friends' mainstream babies, and they are doing so much, so fast. Changes visible from one Sunday to the next; miss a couple of weeks and there's a different child. Give me the slowness of the inchstone any day, days, months, years even to appreciate one change before moving on to the next.
We had our own post-lurgy inchstones today. Little Fish wasn't sick once - BREAK OUT THE FIREWORKS! Mog ate a teaspoon of avocado and two teaspoons of chocolate sauce for lunch - MUCH CHEERING! And I, I walked to Mum and Dad's house for lunch; it might only be ten minutes away but it's the first time I've been further than our garage all week. PARTY! Well no, sit in a chair and breathe for half an hour, trying not to use any further energy. But hey, we all left the house, and we're all getting back to what passes for normal.
Tomorrow we might even try driving somewhere. But for now all those capital letters make me feel tired. Night!