If I want to go over there, I can. I'll just get up, move my legs, and then I'll be there. And if I want to come back I can repeat the events that got me here and I'll shortly be back where I began. This whole movement thing is pretty easy, isn't it? I am the master of my own dimensions - X, Y and Z, I've made them work for me for years and years. I've learned to move myself using my body and limbs, and then a bike, and then a car, and then trains, buses and planes are all at my disposal.

Joni has, up until a few days ago, not had this luxury. She would be placed in a bit of this world and she'd be at that bit of the world's mercy; she couldn't move from it, rocking back and force and stamping her heels on the ground in fun fury. One day, a few months ago, she realised that by holding onto Connie or I's fingers she could hoist her self up from lying to sitting. Then that sitting moved onto standing up, which obviously moved onto walking, slowly, stumbling-ly forward and backwards. Her eyes lit up with delight; her brain started to make neuron links with the muscle movements, and suddenly she realised that she was meant to move in this world. Being still was not her natural position.

Which has lead her almost crawling. She can pivot 360° in a wide circle and can roll onto her back and front rolling around the play-mat and the room at will, even linking the motions to objectives, moving towards a book or a drawer. It won't be long before we're having to bump-proof all the edges in our home, covering plug sockets with little covers, and reinstating that baby-gate we bought all those years ago to keep Frank out of our bedroom.

Speaking of Frank, he's fine with all this. He'll sit there happily and watch us roll around, occasionally coming over to check out what's going on, but most of the time he's happy to sit and get her scraps from her high chair and get the attention after she has gone to bed. He's coming along okay, running away a few times and barking still, but he certainly is more sedentary than he used to be.

We are on the verge of no going back - once she's finally mobile, crawling and walking, the cats out of the bag. Everything that we used to do to keep her safe needs to be revised and corrected. And, most excitingly, we will get to play with her.

In the past week we've rejigged the second bedroom to essentially be an entire playroom, with a large play-mat covered floor. On it, I can crawl around being silly and she'll spin on her belly, writhing trying to get going but not quite there. Her excitement is so high she can see what I am doing and wants to do it, but can't yet. And, as it stands, this is already the best thing we can do together, I cannot imagine how much fun it'll end up being when she's able to actually chase me, run with me, Connie and Frank, and actively be the silly little girl that she almost certainly is going to be.

Then, it's time to teach her how to ride a bike. Skate. Ice skate.