What Does the World Revolve Around?

No time to edit today.  WYSIWYG . . .

Apparently, my little girl is learning to play the system.  She has spent the two days in the 1 year old room at day care.  When I picked her up today, she put on her usual pout, lying on the floor crying.  I, of course, let her cry, refusing to pick her up until she puts forth some effort on her end.  While I sat a few feet away from her, her teacher asked if I was encouraging her to crawl.  It set me back a moment.  Why did Anna's teacher think she had need of learning to crawl.  "No," I responded hesitantly, "she crawls all over the place.  She's even almost walking.  Isn't she crawling around in here?"

It seems she has not been.  Perhaps it is the foreign room, the bigger kids and the shiny new teachers that have her clamming up, but I am not buying that one.  I think the girl knows that if she doesn't move on her own, somebody will pick her up.  After all, attention is truly what Anna has craved since day one.

It was time for a demonstration.

I took my phone out of my pocket, turned on the music player, then set it on the floor.  After all, what self respecting child can resist the opportunity to play with Daddy's phone?  My trap set, I walked away to collect her effects from her cubby.

I turned around and the game was afoot.  The cat was out of the bag. (Stupid cat . . . I should have tied the bag tighter . . . er . . .um, right, keep on topic.)  Her teacher had seen it too.  The little girl was up on her hands and knees.  "Ooh will I have a story to tell tomorrow," her teacher said.

My job there was done.  I collected my effects (a.k.a. Anna) and we forged our way home.

I'm not really sure if I have a point to this story, other than my wonder at our daughter's continued insistence that she be the center of her tiny universe.  As much as I would like to explore this phenomenom further, I find myself being beckoned to the car.  Of course, I can expect many years of witnessing (and hopefully overcoming) this very thing.