Study in contrasts.
She needs to fling herself around the bed for a while, and hide behind the curtains, and chuckle a lot, before finally settling to sleep. I have lost track of her words. The other day she walked in a circle and said, “Rosie, Rosie, Rosie.”
She says “I miss…” Grandpa, or Papa, or Kat, or Granny, or Robby or James…or many others dear to us, when she has not seen them for a bit.
She asks for music, or to read books, or to swing. She eats mostly broccoli one day, only tortilla the next, then venison for two days straight. And always, “nursing?”.
I am, always, undone.
Built by Papa, unveiled on a windy April day.
Dress from Mexico, a gift from Ray & Emilia.
Within the last two weeks, she started saying her name. In the car we listen to the Bach Cello Suites, and when one movement ends she says, “Yay!”, and then “More” until the next begins.
New words daily. Singing in her own language. Went to Maymont with mama the other day, saw a buffalo, at which she raised her shoulders (in the Eric Carle book, “From Head to Toe” that’s what the buffalo does).
I cannot record enough, with words or images, to convey the magic and intensity of daily life with her.
This is my favorite recent photo, little yogurt-face. Blurry, taken with phone. She says, “yeah!” in a sweet. cheerful tone in response to questions like, “Would you like me to sing ‘Itsy-Bitsy Spider’ again?”
New words every day. Walk, help, ear, night-night, tractor, doctor, tight.
December 2010, 16 months old.
She hides behind furniture, or your back, then pops out and says Bahh! instead of Boo!
Owls and trains are recurring themes, and she can make the sound of both.
Sings little songs to herself. Grunts when exerting herself, like mama.
Believes that “thank you” is what you say when you hand something to someone.