“You make me giggle!”
That’s what I tell her. Several times a day.
It’s a lie though. Because really, she makes me LAUGH OUT LOUD.
This part fades, eventually, right? The part where I am so fascinated that she is stringing letters into words and words into sentences and forming beautiful little ideas that I want to giggle every time she opens her mouth? Sometimes the letters and words and thoughts come out in a bit of a tangle but I love the puzzle of untangling them. We both feel such pride when I finally untangle the threads and see that thing she was trying to communicate.
But really, I could just listen to her talk for hours. She talks about her day now. And it doesn’t get more exciting than “I finished my milk!” (which is, I have to say, pretty darn exciting because this girl would drink nothing but water all day and all night if we let her) but I hang on every word.
Tonight, on our way home from the grocery store, we passed a marching band, practicing on the football field at the local high school. I told her that I used to be in marching band and she can too, someday, if she wants. We started dreaming of what instrument she would play.
“You could play the flute.”
“Yeah! The fute!”
“Or you could play the trumpet.”
“Or you could play the clarinet.”
“No… I pay the tumpet!”
“I don’t think the tuba is right for you. How about the drums?”
In the end, she wanted to play the xylophone. And she wanted to play it now. But I convinced her that the piano would be a good start and sat her down at ours. She pressed a few keys and then turned to me. “My song. You like it?” Oh sweet girl, I LOVE IT.
Shortly after I first found out I was pregnant with her, I was talking with a good friend who is also an incredible Dad. I was, as many newly pregnant ladies are, feeling a nauseating mix of excitement, apprehension, and anxiety. He told me a story about a very sweet moment he had shared with his daughter just the day before. He concluded by saying, “You’re growing a best friend.”
I’ve thought about that many times in the past two years. Every day, it’s more true than the day before.
Yeah, this two year old can be terrible sometimes. And another round of terrible is probably just around the corner. But we’ll always have days like these.
*I’m linking up with Heather at the Extraordinary Ordinary for Just Write. Join us!*