Ranger and Stephanie still belong to Janet. Olive, her puppies, and any mistakes, are mine. The poem Steph repeats to Olive, I saw online.

"What do you think it's like to have a normal day?" Steph asked me.

Since our last date night didn't go as planned, and after that stab of fear we felt for Harper and Kane's daughter, we decided a better option would be a family day on seven spent only with our baby and our dogs. Steph had settled herself on the carpet near the couch to be on hand if Olivia wanted a kiss or to share a toy. Not wanting my wife to be uncomfortable ... I slid in behind her and urged her body to relax into mine. My knees were drawn up and she had curled her arms around one, resting her chin on her hand as she absently gave Mo a belly rub with her free one.

"I don't think I've ever had what would be considered a 'normal' day. Even when I was young, I was a force that needed to be reckoned with. Often."

"I believe that. You still cause riptides when you wake up in the morning ... at least in me. In a very good way."

"If you say so, Babe."

"I do. My neck and specific parts below it aside, I've noticed you create physical reactions wherever you go."

"Allow me to cause some reactions in all of your parts tonight," I said, leaning forward to kiss the nape of her neck.

"I'm all yours ... and the pleasure will be all mine."

"Not all. You give as much as you get."

"What can I say ... you inspire me to up my game in every area of my life, and in every room in our apartment. You know ... we're going to have a problem once Olive can understand what we're saying to each other."

"She'll cover her ears and shout 'Stop already!' just like Julie does," I predicted.

"I can picture that. We're going to have our hands full with those two. They're going to outsmart us at every turn."

"One of the most important things I've learned about parenting is ... if you raise them right from the start, you have slightly less to worry about as they get older."

"I haven't stopped worrying since Scrog, when it comes to Julie. It only increased when I found out about our little fireball here."

Steph made that comment because Olivia had been crawling from one end of the living room to the other like she has a posse after her. If she came across a piece of furniture or canine body blocking her path ... she'd stop, sit back on her padded bottom, and then quickly figure out a way around them. When she'd encounter us, she'd sit and give us - and the room at large - a huge smile that showed teeth and produced a wet chin. And then with a gurgling shriek-song about 'bebes' 'bubus' and 'papas', she'd leave knee tracks in the carpet as she put hands to the floor again to head in the opposite direction. Last time, we were her target so she could get a cuddle and a different rattle. This time, Gunner is in her sights.

"I think a little worry is inevitable," I told Steph. "The trick is to not let it consume you so you miss out on moments like this."

That turned into a prophetic statement. With a push-off from Gunny's flank, Olive got to her feet ... and stayed there. She took one step and went still like she wasn't sure what to do or expect next. But being our daughter, she fearlessly forged ahead two more times. In all honesty, she looked like drunken skips we've had to haul in, wobbling dramatically as she explored ten inches of living room from a higher altitude before landing on her diaper again, but it was one of the most innocently beautiful scenes I've ever witnessed.

Gunny appeared confused, not knowing if her fall was intentional or a catastrophe he needed to address. He shot to his four feet and proceeded to nose-poke/nose-check every inch of her. Once he deemed our baby okay, he gave the spot between her cheek and chin a lick and then resumed his play-stance ... front paws outstretched and his backend high in the air as he waited to see what Olive would do next.

Steph had released me to raise her hands to her mouth and capture the awe our daughter's first steps produced. "You know," she said after a full moment of silence, not taking her eyes off Olivia, "instead of wolves, people are going to think she's been raised by dogs."

"I'd take that as an insult if someone said it about dogs that aren't ours."

She turned to grin at me and then got Mo involved in the activity by addressed Olive, hoping our baby would walk over and take Ammo's place by my wife's legs.

"Way to go, Olive! You walked!" Steph held out her arms when Olivia repeated what her Mama had just done to me, and turned to smile at Stephanie. "Can you do that again and walk your little bare toes over to Mommy and Daddy?"

I started to worry more when it looked like Olive was debating whether or not to involve her parents in her personal victory, but I relaxed when she bent almost in two, and much like Gunny ... she had her lower half sticking up until the rest of her also became upright on really wobbly legs. She hesitated less than she had before … and she tried the process all over again, stumble-walking towards us on what I'd say was momentum and sheer will alone.

Steph's arms flew out when Olive got close and she scooped her up, loudly kissing Olivia in celebration. "Your Daddy thinks I'm crazy," she said, confiding in our daughter, "but this is why I say what I do to you every night. You remember the words, don't you? No? That's okay, I'll say them again for you ... 'Mirror, Mirror on the wall, I'll always get up after I fall. And whether I run, walk, or crawl, I'll set my goals and achieve them all.' Always remember, Olive, you can achieve anything in life if you want it bad enough. Walking is just the beginning of your accomplishments. As Daddy would say ... we're proud of you, Baby."