Thursday, 22 October 2009
From the mouth of my own babe
Michela developed her speech early on, so baby cries were soon replaced by grunting and peculiar noises that took the guesswork out of the equation. A crying baby can mean many things: the baby is hungry, he/she is feeling ill, he/she needs a nappy change, he/she is bored and wants some fun with his/her mum, he/she is feeling uncomfortable (usually when the baby is too hot and would love to be able to wrench off that cute bear hat you stuck on his/her head or to wriggle his/her toes out of the novelty socks).
After the expressive sounds, came the words, dada at six months and mama at 8 months.
At one year old she was a chatterbox, she couldn't walk but how she talked! This is when we started watching TV with subtitles on. She learned to walk between 14 and 15 months, which is quite late compared to other toddlers, but a few months later, she was bellowing: "Come here, dada", in the fashion of an army general rallying her troops. By two years old she could count up to 10 and sing an amazing repertoire of rhymes.
Recently, she has learnt to count up to 20 and is very good at doing simple maths. The potty training had to be postponed as she argues against it with a prissy 'I don't think so' when I invite her to plonk her naked botty on the potty.
She has also learned the trick of uttering an exclamation to gain time so she can dazzle us with a witty reply. Her ehm, sounds suspiciously like footballer Steve Gerrard's, though.
Today I suggested we went upstairs to wake up Daddy (he was having a lie in, lucky him) and she said: 'Let's wake up the white haired person.' Which is hilarious since Michael is a bit sensitive about his grey hair. He keeps telling Michela his hair is blond, but she is not fooled.
And I conclude my gushing with Michela's recent report to her Daddy: 'I had a nice bubu with milk in it'. She called my breast bubu when she was less than a year old and it has stuck.