FOH is the poster child for perseverance. Really, any baby is.

I continuously am dumbfounded that this is how we all used to be, too. Once upon a time when we were itty bitty things, we never knew not to keep pushing on, not to pay any mind or attention to the failed attempts at rolling over, crawling, walking, grabbing, holding, and so forth.

We just simply plowed right on ahead. Laughing and drooling our way through. This goes to show me that The Negative is a learned state.

I am convinced that we all begin life here as perfect mini masters. Guiding our parents and other adults back home on the path of Truth.

Maybe this is why no one can resist a baby. All that fresh, pure positive energy. All that wisdom that hasn’t been knocked out of them. No, no, that’s not right and don’t do that or do this … creativity has not been trampled upon.

This morning as I was trying to wake up with my second espresso, I sat back and watched as FOH, over and over and over again, took a step. Only to fall. Then get back up and start all over.

Had that been me, I would have dropped some F bombs and by the end of it all, surely would have broken something out of frustration.

FOH thought it was the most hilarious, most fun thing yet. That’s one of the best parts of having a child — you get put in check about the simplistic nature of being.

And hint, it’s all joy to mini masters. It’s all fascinating and stimulating and happy.

As it should be.