Wednesday, April 11, 2012

a little bit of a talker

It's taken twenty months, but the bitty-bun-baby is beginning to speak.  It's cute. It's exciting. And it's challenging for all parties involved.

"Isla, say 'blackhawk'. Blaaaaaaaak-haaaawwwwwwwwk. Say it. Say it, Isla. Say blackhawk."
"Mama, she won't say it," says her big sister.

"Ilawah!  Ilawah! Ilawah!" says the baby.  "Ilaaaaawaaaaaaaahhhh!"

"UGH!" says Mama.
...

The thing is, it takes us* so long to understand what it is she's trying to say that by the time we realize she's saying, "Isla walk", we've already carried her or strolled her through the entire outing.  And by the time she figures out how to say what she needs to convey in a manner we can understand, she's worn out with frustration and the whole incident usually ends in tears.  Most often hers, sometimes her mother's.

Still, she's talking.  If you're interested, (and how could it be possible that you aren't), her vocabulary includes the following:
Mama, Dadoo, Aowee, Rem, thank you, you're welcome, yeah, no (thanks to her big sister), applesauce, pasta, meow, woof, quack, I'm tall, bubble-bubble, I'm slow, Isla, walk, God, all things, amen, vroom, augh-guh (aircraft) and the aforementioned blaugh-guh (blackhawk).

*By us, I of course meant we-the-parents.  Her big sister has no trouble understanding exactly what it is Isla wants and has no hesitation about translating:

"She wants to give me her ice cream, Mama. She wants to share it with me."
"Isla says she wants to go to an eating store."
"Mama, Isla thinks we should have movie night."


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