Lola has gotten to the age where we can have actual conversations. Not that we're getting into the realm of political debates, but she can tell us how she is feeling and what she wants.
We were all leaving Target Sunday morning. Lola was singing and dancing in the back seat, playing with a new ball and wearing her cute new sunglasses.
Ray asked her if she was happy. She didn't say anything, but was watching Ray very closely, so you knew she was trying to listen, to figure out what she should say back to him.
Ray asked, again, "Is Lola a happy girl?"
She was smiling and happy, so we explained, slowly, that if she's smiling and laughing, she's "happy."
She didn't say anything at all for a few moments and the conversation moved on to another topic when we heard a little whisper from the backseat.
"Happy," she said softly, trying out her new word.
I looked at her, asking her what she said.
Then, louder, in a more confident voice, "Happy girl." She was beaming, so proud of herself. And we were, too.
Monday night, I was working and covering a budget meeting at city hall, when I got a text from Ray.
(Mondays are always very hard for me because not only is the weekend over, but I cover always cover meetings that night, so I rarely see Lola at all that day.)
The text from Ray:
"I told Lola no mama tonight and she replied, and I quote, 'Sad.' I think that sums it all up."
A few nights ago (probably this past weekend), we were all playing in Lola's room. With all the packing and messes, she was able to find and get into her old infant toys. One of which was her tummy time mat. It's one of those mats where there is the mat, a pillow and then, at the top, you fill up a plastic portion with water so babies can push little Styrofoam fish around.
Lola loves this toy, always has. But it's a pain to fill up and empty all of the time. (Thus, the reason it was packed away.)
She, of course, found it right away and took out the water section holding it above her head and smiling at me.
I pretended to not quite understand what she wanted. (We're trying to make sure Lola asks for what she wants using her "big-girl" words - her vocabulary has expanded to the point where she can tell us, somehow, everything she wants. She whines a lot, so it's an attempt to cut down on the whining.)
But she walked over to me and handed it to me, babbling something I couldn't understand.
I told her to show her father.
So she walks over to Ray, saying, "Fishies."
Ray asked her, kindly, what she wanted. But Lola just made a cry or whine noise (hard to explain).
Finally, she tosses it into Ray's lap, "Water! Daddy water!"
And Ray and I were astonished.
She knows "baba" for bottle. She knows "splish-splash" is bathtime. But rarely, if ever, have we used the word water. We were both just shocked that she knew enough to tell us to put water in fish container thing.
So we, of course, rewarded her and filled the darn thing. And we triumphantly handed it over, waiting for her to smile and say, "thank you," like she always does.
But, instead, she got mad.
Mad that she couldn't get the fish out. She didn't want to get the water in to make the fish swim - she thought that by putting water in, the fish would come out.
After 5-6 minutes of trying to explain the concept of the fish thing and Lola getting increasingly agitated, Ray distracted her while I hid the whole tummy time mat away.
Life with a toddler. It's great.
- Bethany :)