Yesterday evening, Lily and I were deadlocked in what was, most likely, my most ridiculous parent moment to date. In the last post, I wrote briefly about her growing coordination. In addition to sitting unsupported for a few minutes at a time, she also enjoys doing backbends during diaper changes. She manages this by anchoring the back of her head and feet to the table and pushing her hips up while her arms flail wildly or grab at her diaper.
I try to encourage her gymnastics, primarily because they are hilarious to watch, but also because I think that somewhere down the line it will pay off for her. During tummy time, I'll place a toy just out of her reach. She will scoot forward for the toy, again using her head to bear weight, while she humps her back up, stretches her arms forward, then straightens out again, minutely closer to her goal. She got smart on me recently and started pulling the blanket toward her rather than moving.
If she's on her back, you can offer her your hands and she will pull up to sitting with very little encouragement. Give her another beat and she will pull up to standing. In fact, as I'm writing, she's standing on the couch with Glenn, shimmying like one of those windsock people in front of a car lot. The girl is talented.
But her fine motor skills are also pretty amazing, which is where our little story picks back up. I had Lily sitting in her vibrating bouncy seat while I made egg salad. She calmly watched while I peeled and chopped my eggs; as soon as the salad was assembled I placed it back in the refrigerator while my bread toasted and I plopped down on the floor to play for a few minutes. Unsnapping the restraint belt, I let her practice sitting up, then realized that every time I brought my face closer, she would giggle madly. So, we did that for a while. This is when she decides it's time to multitask.
I should probably mention that I recently had bangs cut, and they are exactly the wrong length; they don't go behind my ears but they're too long to sit on my forehead either. Anyhow, I'm going in for the umpteenth time, when, with alarming quickness and dexterity for someone so little and generally undeveloped, Lily reaches up and grabs ahold of those stupid bangs. She pulls hair in general, so I thought I could easily release her doughy fists and move on. Not so.
After shaking and tugging my bangs-turned-reins, she started digging her hands in, grasping the most sensitive roots near my temples, and pulled me forward until she could place her forehead against mine. As I attempted to pull away, I realized the little monster was trying to stand up. This is when I lose it. As much as it hurt, the realization that she had thought this out and was so set on her trajectory had me laughing uncontrollably. My sudden outburst startled her, and she removed her forehead from mine for a second to look at my face. Finally gaining a toehold, I took control of the situation.
I pried a finger into each of her fists and slowly extricated them from my aching, and newly tangled, hair. I gently placed her back into her bouncy, unwinding several hairs held hostage by her greedy fingers. Finally, I went back to making my sandwich, equally cursing the stylist who gave me these perfectly wrong bangs and feeling grateful to have had such a laugh with my dexterous little girl.