The girls fought at dinner last night.
Not a real fight: It was a play one, a pretend one, a game-like one.
Millie was pretending to be mad at Lola, as they sat side-by-side on their bench at the table.
She crossed her arms and squawked at Lola, making some sort of indeterminate noise, but one that was clearly intended to express displeasure.
Lola repeated it right back at her, the same silly-angry noise, as she set her hands at her hips.
And for the next two or three minutes, the girls eyeballed each other, making mad-ish sounds at one another, their faces slowly inching closer to one another's, clearly bickering, perhaps supposedly yelling at one another.
It was a little grating on the ears, I won't lie. But I let them continue. Because even if Millie wasn't "talking," she was verbalizing -- and it is always a treat to hear her voice.
(It's also a treat to watch Lola interact with her sister. You hear from time to time about how newborn or infant twins/multiples seem to have their own language, seemingly communicating with each other before they can truly talk. This is what Lola does, or seems to. She communicates with Millie, somehow, someway, even though her sister doesn't (yet) clearly speak. But they do, they have this give and take that I'd love to understand, this secret sister language that keep them up too late every night, us adults privy only their frequent giggles and shrieks of delight.)
Millie is growing more confident every day. She now jumps and dances all the time. I asked her a few weeks ago if she would ever want to do gymnastics like her big sister -- it would be good for her motor development -- and she indicated no, that she'd much rather join a dance class.
She loves to run and twirl now, preferring her Princess nightgowns to fancy dress-up clothes. She picks up the fronts of her nightgowns and curtsies, before tearing throughout the house in a fascinating half-jogging, half-dancing routine.
After the Frozen scavenger hunt, she and Lola had an impromptu Elsa-themed dance party. And Millie attempted to sing along with the words on the soundtrack, not really coming anywhere close to the actual lyrics, but mimicking the tone of her voice and the length of each sound to what she could hear. Could anyone have been able to tell that she was singing "Let it Go"? No, not at all, but they'd be able to tell she was singing -- and that alone is a huge accomplishment for her.
The next day, at my mom's house for Christmas, Millie "borrowed" (read: stole) a cousin's Frozen karaoke machine and sang some more.
There was something kind of special about this machine. I'm guessing the Elsa and Anna? I mean, she will, on occasion, repeat some sounds and work on speech with our play microphone at home, but she's never willingly or excitedly reached for it to sing or talk. But with this karaoke thingamajig, she was absolutely smitten.
Again, you couldn't understand her -- but that isn't the point.
She's trying. She's pushing herself, she's learning.
It used to be that she reserved her voice for mostly just Ray, me and Lola, shying away from any kind of public utterances.
But that's changing. She's singing now in a room full of people. She was talking to others in line at Joanne's the other day. She is fewer signs these, preferring her words over her hands.
She's growing up and catching up.
A little more every day.