Riding the train today, watching a set of parents deal with their little infant. Too young to communicate with anything else but sweet helpless cries. The dad was desperately hoping that the bottle he just opened would be the answer, and at first the rejection sign made him feel helpless. Then, baby took the bottle and in her nonverbal baby way said “thanks so much, daddy.” Bless the parents’ hearts for going through this first really tough year when they’re learning all the new queues of this little person and learning how to successfully program this little one to be a person. Hats off to you.
I write this with my sweet 2 year old sitting at home with her dad and thinking of this morning when I heard her call out my name for me to come get her. She’s in her big girl bed now, after attempting to climb out several times, and it’s a really sweet and cute transitional time. She still calls me to come get her. It’s really cute.
She communicates. We talk to her and she talks to us. No guessing. No hoping that her cry will mean a bottle and waiting for the acceptance. Eat! (yes, with that much exuberance) Apple Juice. Nilk (aka milk). Things we understand her to need and want.
It’s a rather delightful stage we’re at. We’re moving forward. I never want to take steps back. The road ahead is much too sweet and precious as she grows into a really fantastic person.