Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Saturday, 5-ish, I'm on the couch in the condo, reading, and I look up across the room to the doorway, just opened by Pater to my SIL and my daughter, holding Nola in her arms. Little girl looks across the room to me, with a big grin on her face, calls out Nana; her mom, also grinning, puts her down and she runs over to climb up and give me a huge hug. I'd say Best. Feeling. Ever. except it gets even better when her mom comes over to join us and we have a splendid moment hugging even more, the three of us. Nana and daughter, reconciled after five or six weeks' tension and unhappiness, Little Girl oblivious to all that, but happy to hug the folks she loves.
A bit later, sitting around with a glass of wine, Daughter and SIL are getting Nola to show Nana and Pater some of her latest delights, and we listen to her sing birthday songs and twinkling stars (likeadiminindasky -- yes, it is all one word, why do you ask?) and lions sleeping in the jungle tonight (she throws her head back theatrically and sings toniiiiiiiight, sometimes spontaneously, one word only). When Nana does the best lion roar ever, very protracted, carefully just below tooo loud, Nola looks carefully around at all of us and proclaims quite solemnly, "I like it, Nana." But when I ask her if she'd like me to roar again, she hurriedly and emphatically asserts, "No!"
Sentences make all the difference. Words are delightful, but sentences. . . . "I did it, Nana!" . . . "I see the big ball, Ganddad" . . . I like doughnuts, Ganddad. I like more doughnuts, Nana. . . . They're still rudimentary, these sentences, but the potential is there . . . exponential potential, really . . . language will gallop into being over the next weeks and months and we'll share ideas and experiences and emotions. . . .
I marvel at how well this little girl goes to sleep -- her parents did the most spectacular job of sleep-training, and since about six or maybe eight months old, after the usual bedtime routine (teeth-brushing, zipping into sleepsack, story-reading and cuddle), she happily lies down clutching her little stuffed friend, Maaa, and she's generally asleep within minutes, although sometimes we can hear her happily chatting away for fifteen or twenty minutes before the sounds fade away. And she always wakes up in a good mood, ready to see what the day will bring.
At the beach for a walk, she pulls herself up onto logs so that she can walk along them, balancing. She's surprisingly adept, although Nana hovers nearby, a bit concerned about the slipperiness of those surfaces. At the end of each log, some of them lifting her two feet off the ground, she calls out, "Big Jump, Nana" -- and gets me to hold her hands so that she can spring down to the sand below. Adventure is everywhere when you're not quite two years old.
I took a few photos this weekend, but they weren't nearly as fun as this sighting of a very young Frida Kahlo taken by Nola's parents at a recent Halloween event. The unibrow on my granddaughter cracks me up. And clearly, Little Girl is also very amused!