The Hobbit has learned a new word. “Uh-oh,” she said last week, when she dropped her spoon on the floor. DH and I were charmed. How cute!
And who knew this word could have so many applications? Dirty diaper? Uh-oh! Getting buckled into the car seat? Uh-oh! Left alone in the crib by a mother who mistakenly believes you might be interested in napping? Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, ad infinitum.
Och, I don’t mind, though. Truthfully, the Hobbit is great fun these days. I can just see her mind working as she makes new connections and commits new things to memory. She communicates so much more than she did just a few weeks ago. In addition to the ever-popular “hi” (still a favorite, but with stiff competition from “uh-oh”), “mama” and “dada” are very clear and easy to understand. (They’re usually rendered something like “maMA!” and accompanied by disdainful pointing at whatever it is we lowly servants are meant to retrieve for her highness.)
She signs much more now than she used to, too, and she’s getting really creative about combining signs with sounds to get her meaning across. When she uses the sign for “more,” she tries to say the word. And if her pronunciation and usage need a little refining, her inflection needs none at all! “Mo-mo-MO-MO-MO,” she says, “and don’t make me ask again!”
We’re able to have conversations, which is really fun. “Do you want to take your bath now?” I might ask. The Hobbit then tries valiantly to nod her head, saying “da.” (This seems to be her version of “yeah,” but I have no idea how she stumbled upon the Russian word. Someday I half expect her to say, “Yes, thank you, Comrade Mother.” Because everything I know about Russia I learned from The Hunt for Red October.) When she wants to say “no,” she vigorously shakes her head and grins. I am struggling mightily not to laugh at that performance, and I’m trying not to overuse the word, so she’ll take me seriously when I do have to say it.
The best thing is that she has a healthy sense of humor. When DH and I can’t help but collapse into giggles at something she says or does, she joins heartily in the joke. She smiles tolerantly at us, as if to say, “I’m not sure what’s so funny, but I am glad you dear people are happy.”
Life in the Fruit Salad household is:Crazy. Wonderful. Exhausting. Exhilarating. Chaotic. Full. Blessed.