Like when she first stands to walk, or speaks her first subject-verb sentence, or pedals her bike up the sidewalk all by herself.
And then there are other times when you just stand in awe. Like when she belts out her first real solo audition for a role in the cast of the local community theater's upcoming production, or recites an entirely memorized long poem or Bible passage by heart with palpable expression, or stands up on her pedals and maneuvers her bike through a tricky rock-garden with natural finesse.
Or when, while out on an evening walk together, she chomps down on the last bite of her store-bought peach and observes, "Look, my pit has a hole in it."
And then, a moment later, says, so matter-of-factly, "Something's moving in there."
And then, with only the slightest elevation in tone, says, "I think it's a bug."
(Wherein your wife takes the peach from her hand and says, in a far more girly fashion, "Ew! That is so gross! There is a bug in it!" and then crushes the remainder of the mostly eaten peach and pit in her hands to reveal this:
|Not my picture, but a very accurate depiction of what we saw|
Which, I have come to learn, is called a "split pit" and can sometimes become infested with earwigs, which are a common pest on peach trees. They climb in through the stem and nest in the pit.
The whole thing is somewhat reminiscent of the storybook, James And The Giant Peach.)
And then, after watching the insects scurry away (her mother having thrown the peach-parts into the street with another emphatic, "Ew!"), she says, again quite matter-of-factly, "Yeah, that was gross." And walks on. Like it really wasn't that big a deal.
There are times when you're just so proud of your kid.
And then there are other times when you just stand in awe.