Blossoming Lilly.

Last night my daughter was a little moody, and, at one point, she was climbing up onto the couch to sit with my boyfriend and me. He reached down to help her up and she lashed out, saying, "I want Mommy!" (She's two, and at that age where, if something isn't exactly what she wants, it is an affront to her very existence.) I pulled her up into my lap and made her look at him (he's used to her, but still looked a little hurt - these kinds of things sting a little) and said, "Look. You hurt his feelings. Do you really want to be mean to him?"

And, for the first time that I have ever seen, there was a look on her face of comprehension of her effect on another human being. She looked genuinely hurt and remorseful that she had caused someone pain. Without my having to tell her (usually either I have to tell her or my tone is sharp enough to tell her to do so, but this time I was gently chastising, which is unusual), she reached and touched his face and said, "I'm sorry."

It was like watching a flower blossom.