Witnessing Imitation and Personal Expression as Parents

It's weird as a parent to witness your children grow up. As we see our kids developing and maturing, the interplay between imitation and expression is exquisite.

• Example of imitation: Maddy had a fear of our blender. (We love our fruit smoothies every morning for breakfast. Bring them on!) In order to overcome this fear, Mary and I would carry out a complex dance ritual to the rhythm of the blender every time we turn it on. Now, every time we turn on the blender, Maddy instinctively dances around and gets excited. Her behavior has been shaped (read "conditioned," "programmed," or whatever you want) through imitation. Much of our kids' behavior stems from imitation.
• Example of expression: Maddy picked up her signature dance style all on her own. Whenever music comes on, she begins to dance. She lifts and shakes her right leg behind her in the air and bobs up and down on the left leg. She may even switch back and forth between legs. Oooh, I know: intimidating stuff, right? Personal expression is cool to witness as parents because we are able to cast a small glance into the unique personality developing in the child. Mary and I frequently look at each other and quip: Where did she get that? Perhaps we'll never know. (It's fun to blame other family members.)
  

Anyhow, I had a funny "imitation moment" yesterday evening. Maddy and I were taking a bath together. Like most little kids, initially Maddy was not a fan of getting her hair washed: Who likes water and shampoo flowing over and into their open eyes, nose, and mouth? Nevertheless, she watched how I would pour water over my head to rinse out the shampoo (the tear-free baby-kosher stuff, of course). I pretended to have such a good time of it. After a couple baths she wanted me to pour water over her head, too. I obliged. A couple months have since passed by; she continues to be very good in letting me wash her hair. Yesterday, after I washed my hair, she filled up the bath-bucket with water. She offered it to me and uttered her version of please ("leeeeze"). I poured the bucket of water over her head and, predictably, she bobbed her head sadly a bit as the shampoo ran over her facial orifices. I had to stop and think. Through imitation, Maddy not only does something that's not particularly enjoyable (though necessary, mind you), but she actively initiates it and says please. What a good little girl.