I want to preface this post by saying that it's mostly about Lily achievements, and I feel kinda bad about that. To be honest, Abby is, as she is most days, a total peach. She's hilarious and cute and, on average, does about 29 things an hour that make me laugh. There, I should feel better about that.
Lily, however, had the honor of noticing her shadow for the first time today. I'm not sure how momentous an occasion this really is, but it definitely felt blog worthy. We were on a walk around the block, and while she was looking at a leaf she was clutching in her paw, she suddenly took notice of the Lily-shaped dark spot on the pavement. Her gut reaction: try to wave at it. (awww... always the friendly monkey. She waved at two total strangers during our walk as well). When she was done waving, she tried to jump on it, which is curiously akin to something flirting with violence, strikingly similar to the prehistoric man part of "2001: A Space Odyssey".
The second Lily achievement of the day came during dinner at my Dad's house. Jen had set up a booster seat in a folding chair in anticipation of dinner. This chair is a normal height, maybe 22 inches off the ground. Plus the booster seat, so 25 inches or so. After Jen had set it up, our attentions were commandeered to other things. A few minutes later, Jen came to realize that Lily was completely in the seat, with the table snapped in place. We questioned the family - nobody copped to having put her in it (I think I can trust them). Somehow, and I have to say I can't really imagine that she could have done it, she managed to climb up into the chair and pull the table into place AND snap it down. We are flabbergasted.
Lastly, Lily tonight walked into the vicinity of the bathroom and said, "Poopy!?" I should say that we have been negligent and not even broached the topic of potty training yet, though it is looming on our lengthening to-do list. I dove to her side and asked, "Do you need to go potty?"
"Yeah!" she replied.
"Okay!" I scooped her up, took off the necessary garb, and put her on the toilet. She seemed, on some strange level, to understand what was happening and why she was there. I kept asking her if she had to poop, and her response never wavered: "Yah!" She even peeped down into the watery bowl, checking to see if anything was happening. She liked being there. So much so that my arms started to burn with the effort of keeping her from plunging into the toilet. Nothing material ever came of it, but it seemed like a good sign that she actively sought out the experience of it. Plus, she grabbed some toilet paper and (needlessly) wiped herself - more positive.
Day two hundred and seventy five.
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