I’m a word person. It doesn’t matter what kind. I love ’em: the power a single sentence can punch when it comes to you at just the right moment, the content feeling you get after a fantastic conversation. I had an experience with both this morning in a word lottery winning moment.
Abigail is becoming a word person. I’m captivated by her little caveman sentences. “mommy, chair” “lovies, bed, night night” “jelly toast more more.” Each little syntax error a chance to get to know her better. Her expanding vocabulary has been eye opening and sometimes I look at her with the biggest twinkle in my eye trying not to giggle at her precious missing phonemes. But sometimes she hits a word dead on, and I just want to give the girl a big high five.
Some words most 2 year olds around the country say on a regular basis. Words like: play, dog, potty, and cookie. There have been some words Abigail has taken a liking to that make me think, “You were born to live here you little Oregonian.” Words that crack me up to the deepest part of my southern soul.
In the mornings: “Blackberry jelly toast.”
When cleaning up: “Recycle.”
Driving to a friends house: “Ocean! Bye, bye beach!”
Taking a walk in crummy weather: “Rain pants stroller, yay!” (I’m still not sure what a rain pants stroller is, but let’s focus on the fact the kid says rain pants and “yay!” to rain.)
I love when I look at her and know that she is teaching me way more than I may ever teach her. How her words help patch my heart by showing me the goodness all around me — her bottled up words now spilling out in a wonderful rush.
This morning we stopped our cleaning and playing to have a snack. On the table was the card from my sister that came in the mail last week. I pulled the card out of the envelope to read it again but already knew the words, words she thought described me perfectly. Words that just happen to be the Oregon State Motto.
“Love you, Mommy.” I looked up from the card to my beautiful Oregon girl. “Twinkle, star?”
Words, sweet words. Jackpot.