Monica, 14 months old.

On Saturday morning Monica was playing with stuff on the bathroom counter, while I brushed out her hair, then put in an elastic head-band. Just after I got it on, she stopped what she was doing, looked up at me, smiled, and said, “preddy.” (apparently, this is what I generally say after I fix her hair – especially when I use a headband)

She says  quite a few things these days, and when added to gestures which are getting more and more precise, she frequently gets her demands… ahem… meaning across quite well. 

 I need to write down a few of these and post them so that I don’t forget. “Ju-gah” (for Judah), “Ev-rah” (Ezra), “Ger-Gah” (for Dear God – at the beginning of a prayer), “Ah ROHv” (with the barest hint of a v at the end – for Aunt Rose), Ka-ty (for Katy – kids seem to get that one pretty easy), DaDEE (for Daddy), and of course, “Ma-ma” (for yours truly.) She quite clearly says Uh-Oh, and says “Moh” for “more,” accompanied by a grabbing movement with her hands toward the desired object (generally food). “Mo” also stands for “no,” which she says quite emphatically in a rather short, dismissive sort of way, as opposed to when she says “Moh” meaning “more” which is more drawn out and questioning.  She also has variations on doggy, kitty (she identified a picture of a bunny as a kitty the other day), banana and cracker. Actually, we’ve discovered that she’ll attempt to say nearly anything you ask her to, but I suppose words don’t really count unless she says them on her own.

She climbs more than I remember the boys doing. Last week I heard an unfamiliar pottery sound coming from the living room, and went in to investigate. She’d climbed up on one of my antique chairs and right up onto a small table 3 feet off the ground and was clanking something onto the decorative plate sitting there. She looked quite proud of herself.  On Tuesday, when the stairs were left out on the step-stool, I looked over to find her pulling a screw-driver out of the  pencil mug on my desk. Oh boy.

Fortunately, I have two little watchers to help keep an eye on her. Unfortunately, they’re not always the most reliable, and she tends to follow them into mischief – or anywhere, really – without a second thought. They still play with her quite nicely, although they’re not quite as enamoured of her, now that she gets into their nearly laid out cars/train-tracks/armymen. But frequently, they’ll still come and ask if they can play with the baby, and whisk her off to the other room, or maybe out onto the back of the tricycle or into the dump truck for a ride. She’s a pretty lucky little girl, where brothers are concerned.

Her parents are still quite enthused about her, although her little will is starting to make itself known, more and more these days. It’s sad when you have to go from merely enjoying to more actual parenting, but it’s also delightful to see her little character and personality grow and develop. God is very good.