Throwing down, Lily-style.

Lily and Mommy, fresh from the bathity bath.

My favorite new pastime: making sure Lily does not get her way. Her frustration management gene has morphed into something older, more "mature", and far more amusing. I know this is wrong of me, but I just cannot help myself.

Recently, when she became miffed ("for no reason whatsoever" makes up the strong majority of instigators for this), she started flailing herself to the ground, her pale little chunky self collapsing in a pile of shuddering disbelief. It is such a Kid thing to do - as compared with a Baby reaction - and we were struck by its appearance. Jen and I exchanged some 'uh oh's and shared a worried glance at this latest development.

So she's starting to push those boundaries a bit. Most commonly, this little Lily of Fury appears when she wants attention from someone who's otherwise spoken for. Lily of Fury loves to strike during Abby's diaper swap.

When Lily embarked on this new phase, she would throw herself to the floor in frustration, and would do so on whatever surface she was standing on, with no forethought as to the consequence. As a result, her slight annoyance would jump to outright bawling when she decided to throw down on the wood floors. Thump! "Waaaah!" Whatever was below Lily - toys, sister, cat, etc. - this item would bear her full and furious force. Normally she led with the head, which is a calamitous strategy, but then again there's not much strategizing when all becomes pure frustration.

This has been over recent weeks. In the past couple days, she has learned from her erroneous, head-thwapping ways. This is the adorable part. Now her annoyance will build to a head, and she'll prepare to do her Fury dance, but she will stop with calm and poise to make sure her landing area is clear and soft, THEN she will throw herself down and declare her displeasure.

How can it be so right to deeply enjoy something of pure misery to your kid? Sometimes I feel honestly bad when I laugh at her when she's upset, like I'm hard wiring her synapses wrong, programming her to believe that I'm a miserable jerk. Is this how character flaws begin, when parents respond incorrectly in certain situations? Is my daughter bound for a penal facility?

Day fifty nine.

I've been meaning to get back to the Music to Dance Your Kids' Socks Off, so here's the latest:

Here Come Tha Police - Vicious Vicious

It's been a while since we rocked out to this. We're long overdue.

Abs at play. She was trying to pick up as many coins as possible, which was really impressive in both dexterity and planning. Smart little monkey.

Crocolily, looking like she just ran a half marathon.

Another shot of Lilypad.

Interesting photographic point: these last two were taking moments apart, with Lily in the same spot, which was kinda in the sun. In the first the sun was behind me, and the second it was behind her. I always like taking multiple photos with varying points of view, and seeing the different result.

Then again, I'm a big big nerd.