The spoken word

It's like she was waiting her whole life to talk to us. She had so many things to say in those early months but we just couldn't understand. I made a decent attempt, I really did. Now, 2 years later, I get a running commentary from the moment she wakes to the moment she sleeps. I hang on to her every word. It's like the most engaging conversation I've ever had. I love the sound of her little voice, singing, laughing, telling me about her day. She really is an amazing little creature, understanding and learning with everything she absorbs from the world around her. I see the world from her perspective. She tells me she loves me. It really doesn't get any better.

There are still days when I look at her, listen to her talking and wonder how I used to piece this all together. All those months of what essentially was an elaborate guessing game. Each cry could mean an infinite number of possibilities from hungry to tired and everything in between. And I actually did figure out what it all meant. I knew what cry meant sad and what was a downright outrage. I deciphered the difference between the whining for 'I'm bored' and those that meant 'pick me up now'.

It is so wonderful to all be speaking the same language now. We sit and talk together. She's memorized her favourite books and 'talks' them to me. She gets some words mixed up - like calling the letter x "eggs". She sings songs. She sings!! If I thought the sound of her voice talking was amazing, singing is definetly on some other euphoric level. Nothing, nothing is sweeter than the sound of her singing.