Nobody's Fool

As Allison Clare learns more words, we're constantly amused by her interaction with idioms. She's still learning "you" and "me," having had them backwards for a while. It makes sense: I say, "Do you want Mommy to help you?" so she says, "Help you" when she means "help me." Same with "carry you," "feed you," etc. She offers to help by saying, "Help me!" or plaintively requests, "Help you" when she gets stuck with (or in) something.

She's recently begun incorporating words for abstract ideas. This morning, I changed her diaper, stood her up, and tried to kiss her belly, which she loves but can hardly bear for the tickling. She often instructs me, "Kiss tummy" but then dissolves in giggles and clutches protectively at her midsection before I can even get close. Today she squirmed away and laughed, "No kiss tummy! No kiss tummy!"

I said, "I can't kiss your tummy? Then whose tummy can I kiss?," trying to trick her into saying her own name.

But she was one step ahead of me, announcing "Nobody's tummy!" and dancing away in triumph over the opportunity to trump me with a brand-new word.

Little Gillian is also vocalizing in new ways. She has just started gasping with almost-laughter, and my very favorite thing about her, I think, is that if she is unhappy and I smile at her, she pauses for a moment, then bursts into an enormous grin. Sometimes while she is lying there grinning, she squirms with happiness and tilts her head back to look up and away, like she is overtaken with her private enjoyment of the moment . . . the way you enjoy an irrepressible smile and look away when somebody catches your eye in a boring meeting and you realize you're both having the same hilarious thought.