Diana understanding words and gestures is wildly exciting for me. And not only because I'm proud of her development as a devoted mother, although that's nice, too. Mainly, I'm happy because it means that after a year-and-a-half of slavishly obeying D's every whim
, I can now get her to help me with stuff.
She will lift her foot up to assist me when I put her jeans on
, she can help load and unload the washing machine (ish), she will offer a (somewhat reluctant) hand to clear her toys away
when I ask her, and most impressively, when I say -
"Diana, show me downward dog with one leg in the air!" (as any normal parent presumably does, on a regular basis), D plops her hands on the ground, lifts a back leg up and then turns to me for approval (leg still akimbo). And we haven't been to baby yoga
Now, I do realise that my child isn't a circus animal (must remember to stop ordering her to kiss people on command, must fight the stage mum within), but if I ever do push the button to trigger my child into contortionist yoga poses at my insistence, it will make a very cool party trick.
Not only does D understand me, she has recently learned to express herself better as well.
So if she falls and hurts herself
, instead of the helpless yelping of the olden days, there is now a shriek, a point of the finger to where she's hurting, and then the crumpled sobbing will commence.
This is useful for a hypochondriac lunatic-type mother like me; if she points to her finger, I can rest easy but if it's her head that she fell on I can proceed to full-blown insanity and commence calling the doctor/my father-in-law, who has seven kids and is therefore the most qualified parent I will ever know/emergency services at once.
D's newfound understanding of things is often accompanied by a nod of the head. "Do you want to play with your blocks?" I'll ask, and D will excitedly bob her head up and down.
But my favourite new trick of D's happens when I ask her what her name is. For a long time, she would respond "Dad" - probably confusing my question with "What is your favourite person of all time called?" instead.
But now (just for me, I'd like to think), she smiles and says: