I punch babies.

Those who know me well know how much I love to punch babies. Yes! I punch babies! In their bellies! Sometimes IN THEIR KIDNEYS! And you know what? They totally love it. I have yet to meet a baby whom I have punched who hasn't giggled with glee (or at the very least tolerated it graciously and stoically).

I come from the parenting school of "beat your children from birth". Okay, that's not our official name, but it could be. Lest you fear I actually *beat* my kids, rest assured I don't, but I do occasionally step on them or sit on their heads. Or drop them from tall heights onto couches or beds. Or cross their arms gruffly, pinning them to themselves while sing-songing "Wylet loves herself, Wylet loves herself".  It's cruel stuff really, and wonderfully awesome.

Strangely, my children love this rough play. And I've found that it's great training for the surprise wipeout. My kids rarely cry when they trip or crash. When they fall, it's as if they really do bounce. And while that is probably a result of us laughing our a$$es off every time they do (hey, it's funny), I think playing with kids like they aren't made of porcelain is a really good thing. It builds, to borrow a term from my studies, "self-efficacy".

One of my PT courses this quarter is Pediatrics, and we're learning about child development. A key point from today's class was that tiny infants' vestibular systems (think balance) are stimulated when their caregivers bounce them, pat them, rock them. All those movements of their tiny little bodies begin the cascade of developing motor skills. What I took from this (aside from the fact that God made us wonderfully, indeed) is that all babies want to get punched. Yes, in their tiny kidneys.

So go to it folks, go punch some babies and do them and their vestibular systems a favor.*

*No babies were harmed in the making of this blog post.