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Lyla has decided that she knows how to run. I wonder if this elevated sense of ability will follow her throughout life. I hope so. What better way to learn how to do something than to just start doing it?

It is important to note, however, that Lyla's current proficiency level as a runner is approximately my level as a snowboarder. Which is to say that she falls down a lot and crashes into things.

Did you get a good look at that face? She has a purple bruise above her eyebrow, various yellowish bruises on her forehead, and a gash on her cheek. The gash is from an unidentified baby's fingernail at daycare (DNA analysis is pending), but the other dings are from Lyla treating the world like bumper cars.

The last two days, in fact, Lyla's teachers have had to fill out incident reports on her to explain her battle wounds. Yesterday it was, "Lyla was playing by the fish tank and tripped on a toy and hit her cheek on the shelf." Today it was, "Lyla was trying to run and lost her balance. She fell and hit her head on the toy shelf. She was also scratched by another child."

As we left the classroom, Lyla expressed a passionate interest in holding the incident reports. I denied her request, certain that she would discover a way to paper-cut her eyeballs.

This is the way parenting is, I guess. You watch your kids get older and hope that as they try new things, they'll go slow and remain standing, knowing full well that they probably won't. So you pick them up when they fall and take comfort in the thought that most kids do develop common sense by the time they're 25 years old.