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I barely notice it anymore, the thousands of steps our son racks up every day, the miles he walks in our living room. In our home, it’s like this.
It’s not anything like the disembodied pitter-patter of our toddler’s feet coming down the hallway to interrupt our late-night TV, which was sweet (but also creepy in an evil Chucky doll kind of way).
Today, his footfalls are very much embodied, man-sized strides crossing the room again and again, bare feet slapping, beads spinning, and singing or scripting or beatboxing, too. It’s how he soothes his anxiety, entertains himself, satisfies his restless limbs.
We’re mostly immune to it—unless his route is taking him back and forth through a conversation we’re trying to have.
But it’s not like this, exactly, when we’re away from home. It’s like this, amplified.
Please see the text version of this post for the full transcript: itslikethis.substack.com/p/38-solid-ground
I barely notice it anymore, the thousands of steps our son racks up every day, the miles he walks in our living room. In our home, it’s like this.
It’s not anything like the disembodied pitter-patter of our toddler’s feet coming down the hallway to interrupt our late-night TV, which was sweet (but also creepy in an evil Chucky doll kind of way).
Today, his footfalls are very much embodied, man-sized strides crossing the room again and again, bare feet slapping, beads spinning, and singing or scripting or beatboxing, too. It’s how he soothes his anxiety, entertains himself, satisfies his restless limbs.
We’re mostly immune to it—unless his route is taking him back and forth through a conversation we’re trying to have.
But it’s not like this, exactly, when we’re away from home. It’s like this, amplified.
Please see the text version of this post for the full transcript: itslikethis.substack.com/p/38-solid-ground