Lydia Log: The Pointing

A while back, I excitedly reported that Little Miss was now capable of coherently enunciating single words ("bum, "Mum", "Dad", "baby") and thus, was obviously well on her way to talking. Before long, I thought, she'd be raking up the phone bills and prattling on about her day and complaining about our choice in clothing and asking about thebirdsandbeesandzombiesandrainbowsandwhathaveyou. Unfortunately, not much has progressed in the weeks since, which is of no great concern for Lydia since she seems to have devised a not-so-terribly-complicated system of pointing and squealing to effectively communicate everything she wants. That this system is completely useless should her parents or grandparents not be present for her every beck and call is of no matter to Lydia... because we are actually present for her every beck and call - willing to fulfil her every grunted wish, provided she is not demanding a steak knife or a candle or a ride on the raging hot pellet stove. I don't foresee her verbal skills developing much further until she sees the limitations in the (admittedly cute) old point-and-squeal technique, which should be coming soon; for instance...

Lydia (pointing): "Eeeeeiiiiiyyyyuuuunnnhhhhh!"
Us: "What are you pointing at?"
Lydia (pointing): "Eeeeeiiiiiyyyyuuuunnnhhhhh!!"
Us: "Is it the cat? Do you want the cat?"
Lydia (pointing): "Eeeeeiiiiiyyyyuuuunnnhhhhh!!!!"
Us: "Do you want to go outside? I don't understand."
Lydia (pointing): "Eeeeeiiiiiyyyyuuuunnnhhhhh!!!!"
Us: "Here, have a cookie."
Lydia: nom nom nom, ""Mmmmeeiiiyyuuuummmhh" (spraying crumbs everywhere)

Yesterday, we took her to Toys 'R Us for a nice get out of the house excursion, and man - it was a point-and-squeal-a-thon. Kids. Books. Stuffed animals. Board games. Familiar cartoon faces. Lights. Strollers. Errant dust particles. All were identified with her little crooked finger and giant gap-toothed grin. Somewhat related: she is apparently very very social - quick to approach anyone under three feet tall, squealing loudly and happily with her finger extended at their face or whatever they happen to be holding in their hands. I think we all know that this trait does not come from my side of the gene pool (and by that I mean her sunny social disposition, not the pointing and grunting)...

Speaking of grins: she's been on a molar-cutting rampage for a few weeks now, which means drooling, and lots of it. She has also developed a habit of sticking out her tongue while she's concentrating, which coupled with the drooling leads to situations that the pre-Dad Aaron would have found kind of stomach-turning. But I'm okay. She's okay. We're all okay.

And still the cute parade rolls on.