She was precious…
She pressed her nose and fingers up against Logan airports window and spoke in vowel sounds as planes, trucks and luggage got moved about on the Tarmac below. She traveling to Dublin on our flight.
Amy is 18 months old and all things are new to her. Her excitement and surprise is muttered in her language with exclamation points of joy. We all agree, when Amy starts talking she will have a lot to say!
Her Dad is corralling her well. He’s young. He’s alone. He apologizes for her high pitched glee. We smile and agree she’s great entertainment. After all, crying could be so worse.
She’s at the mimic phase. Dad jumps, Amy Jumps.
Dad claps, Amy claps.
Dad waves Amy waves.
And every single time. Every well done mimic sets her off with a gleeful almost surprised screech!
As if she’s saying, “can you believe I did that? Me? Like I accomplished that jump, that clap, that wave! Man, I am something!”
And we, her grandparent-like audience celebrate every silly surprise that gives her wonder.
Amy is truly something…
Then, without ceremony, she reaches up to Dad to pick her up. Amy lays her head on his familiar safe chest and falls off to sleep.
As sweet as a baby could be.
Her dad’s primary language is French. He sends her to a bilingual day care. He’s hoping she will thrive in both languages.
Oh, don’t you worry Dad, Amy has a light bigger and brighter light than her 18 months.
She’s going to be just fine.
She truly is something!