I’ve always been too lazy to teach my babies sign language (well, and to learn it myself). Good old-fashioned grunting and pointing work for us. But at eleven months, Avery started curling her arm in whenever we prompted her to say please. We worried about her synapses until we realized we were offering her organic cheerios/diluted juice/twizzlers and then curling our own arms back into our bodies, witholding the prize, as we waited for her to manner up.
At fifteen months, Molly is more understandably verbal than the other kids. Meaning she can say Mahm! and Cat! and sometimes Dah! She can also follow simple directions and keeps better track of her hat, coat and shoes than any other person in this house. Her socks still get eaten by the dryer.
Several times a day she climbs into my lap, tugs at the bottom of my shirt and bobs her head cajolingly, eyes big and locked on mine, mouth in a wide expectant grin.
If only I thought her frequent flailing limbs connecting with my head were accidental.
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