My heart is bursting with emotion. I just had my first verbal conversation with my 15-month-old daughter:
She woke up and I went into her room saying, "Good morning, sweet pie."
"Mama!" she exclaimed, and then promptly tossed her stuffed giraffe over the side of the crib and looked up at me with a grin. "Uh-oh."
"Uh-oh," I agreed, and put the toy back in the crib.
She raised both arms up high and asked, "Ow?" I picked her up. "Okay, you can get out." Then she pointed at the door and said, "Baba."
So we went into the kitchen and got a bottle of milk. She happily grabbed it with both hands and started to guzzle... and we settled in on the couch to watch Sesame Street - my baby girl in my lap, having just the morning she wanted.
I know because she told me so.
She woke up and I went into her room saying, "Good morning, sweet pie."
"Mama!" she exclaimed, and then promptly tossed her stuffed giraffe over the side of the crib and looked up at me with a grin. "Uh-oh."
"Uh-oh," I agreed, and put the toy back in the crib.
She raised both arms up high and asked, "Ow?" I picked her up. "Okay, you can get out." Then she pointed at the door and said, "Baba."
So we went into the kitchen and got a bottle of milk. She happily grabbed it with both hands and started to guzzle... and we settled in on the couch to watch Sesame Street - my baby girl in my lap, having just the morning she wanted.
I know because she told me so.
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