“Is she walking properly yet?” My friend asked me this weekend. She hadn’t seen my two year old wobbly footed daughter since March, when she was still resolutely stuck on her behind.

When Frog toddled and then ran into the room, my friend’s question was answered. “Wow,” she said, “It’s like she’s a different child”.

Just seven months ago my daughter was a toddler of the non-toddling variety. We were in the midst of appointment after appointment to get to the issue behind her inability to walk. Hip dysplasia was ruled out, hypermobility was ruled in, along with flat feet.

Today, we sat in the physiotherapist’s treatment room, watching as our two year old treated the (ever patient) physio to a full show of jumping and running. She bounced around the room, bending down with a look of intense concentration, before shooting upwards, arms stuck to her sides, and taking off at least a centimeter in the air. With each jump, she gave herself a full round of applause.

Echoes of the words I heard at the weekend came back to me. “”Wow,” said the physiotherapist, “It’s like she’s a different child.” After being told it was unlikely our toddler would be signed off until she was at least five years old, today came as a welcome relief.

“I’m satisfied there’s nothing more I can do for her that she can’t do for herself. She’s developed at a far faster rate than I thought. Her progress is amazing. She doesn’t need any more physio sessions from me,” the physio told us.

My heart swelled with pride as I watched my daughter pogo her way around the room. Every step she’s taken has been hers and hers alone. I’m so proud of her for that.

There’s one more appointment to get through before we’re finally free – and it’s likely we may be back in the future for more sessions as Frog gets older and may experience growing pains or discomfort in her joints – but, for now, we are signed off.

Signed off. I like it.