So lately I've been thinking that it's gotta really suck for Molly. She talks a blue streak and she knows exactly what she's saying. But we don't. All we can pick out are words. She's got more words every day; her new favorite is "cookie." Wonder why. But she'll be talking away and she'll say something like "Gack a bleep?" And we'll look at her and go, "What, honey?" And she'll repeat it, slowly and carefully because, well, she knows her parents aren't too swift: "Gack a bleep?" And we'll go, "uh-huh." At which point you can see her just get fed up and disgusted, and start with "mama. dada. Emma. Molly." Like, "ok, I can see that my higher conversation skills are lost with you people. I landed among a bunch of losers, and I'll have to come down to your level of discourse. You want me to point out my nose again? Sure. Whatever floats your boat."
Another oddity in Molly world: She's fantastic at learning new words and great with names. She quickly mastered mommy, dada, Emma, nana, Molly, her teachers' names, her friends at school (with complicated vowels and consonant combos), "Diss" (Dennis), etc. But her brother? He's called "Chhhhmmmmm." That's the Hebrew CHHH, like "CHHanukah" or "CHHHallah bread." No clue why she finds it so challenging to say "Sam," but there you go. A Molly roll call around our dinner table sounds like this: "Mama! Dada! Emma! Molly! Chhhhmmmm!"
The weather here has been beyond perfect and Molly, Chhhmmmm, and I made it to the park this week. Here are a few pictures of our adventures there.
Here's my beautiful baby girl. Note the ponytail spout. This was especially exciting because normally Molly protests when we put her hair up and her hair's starting to look like Einstein on a bad day.
Changing Po's diaper.
My other beautiful girl.