When I was a little girl I was a chatterbox. My parents said I was only quiet when asleep or eating. My younger brother was the complete opposite, he didn't speak at all. My worried parents took him to a speech therapist who after some monitoring declared there was nothing wrong with his speech, he simply didn't feel the need to talk as his big sister did it all for him...
Little E seems to have inherited my genes. She is officially a chatterbox. I can't understand half of what she is saying but she gets lost in deep conversations with me, gesticulating madly as she tells me about her day at nursery (which usually involves someone biting someone and eating three sandwiches), the latest adventure of a wolf with big teeth or acting out what Bump is up to inside my tummy. All she needs from me is the odd nod of encouragement and she's off into another rant of which I can make out about the last three words.
I love it. Her big personality has a huge voice now and as she screws up her nose whilst telling me how she doesn't like the look of that boy in the queue because his shoes are red, I have images of sitting in a Starbucks 20 years from now listening to her rant about the latest boyfriend/best-friend/job and remembering these ordinary days when she found her voice.
This post is linked to The Ordinary Moments linky over at http://www.mummydaddyandmemakesthree.co.uk
Artist, Baker and Blogger. Mum to my two beautiful, cheeky girls. Muddling my way through parenthood with equally cheeky Husband.