Girl’s Life

I’d like to say that I remember those days of peaceful quiet when Sophia was just a little baby. But you know, she was never one of those quiet babies. (And not in a bad way. More like a just-want-to-yammer-and-squeal-and- tell-you-about-it kind of way.) This is why I’m not surprised that she is not a quiet toddler either (note the telling volume dial shirt). It’s not that she yells or screams — well, not most of the time anyway — and despite the fact that she’s generally shy at first, that kid sure does like to talk.

I guess it goes with the whole almost-being-two thing. You know, the talking. The constant talking.

The thing that makes the nonstop narrating of our lives so incredibly adorable (and tolerable after hearing “No, no. . .GO! GREEN!” at all 42 red lights we stopped at on the way home) is the unique way Sophia has of communicating. I’ve mentioned before that Sophia sort of makes up her own language as she goes. But now that she has more words in the vocab, the mispronunciations are getting fewer (besides the fact that we eat ‘munch’ at noon and it’s ‘dinner-dime’ when Chris and I get home from work), and the improvised sentences are becoming more common.

“Mommy, hold you!” she pleads when she wants to be picked up and cuddled. Big blue eyes, arms outstretched and incorrect grammar? Who can resist that, I ask?

“Daddy, BACK!” she yells out at night as I leave the room after tucking her in. Chris made the mistake awhile back of rubbing her shoulders to soothe her to sleep. Now when I finally wrangle my way out of the room at bedtime, she knows there’s someone else out there who she can sucker in for a good ol’ back rub. The lack of words in her pleasant request? It only makes Chris melt even more.

The girl’s good, what can I say? At this rate, she’ll never have to learn how to speak in full sentences. Although I can’t imagine “Daddy, KEYS!” is going to get her very far when she turns 16.