I hear Reagan jabbering away as Daddy tries to put her to bed tonight. She sounds insistent. It isn't long before he pokes his head out into the living room and asks me what book she is asking for. She repeats the title and he holds up a book with that exact title. But that isn't the one she wants. So I walk in her room, think for a brief minute, pull a book off the shelf and ask her if that is the right one. It is. Crisis averted. There are dozens of moments like this every single day.
She's two and a half. She doesn't communicate perfectly yet. She sometimes gets the words in the wrong order in her sentences. But I get her. I understand her. I translate everytime other people are in the room. At first I was worried she would think I was making fun of her when I did this. Or maybe she would feel no need to talk if I was just going to repeat it all. But the more I did it, the more I realized she found a lot of comfort in knowing that I understood her. I wasn't just listenin, I was paying very close attention.
I guess its always been that way, because to some extent it is the same with Madison. Certain cries mean certain things. I know when she is crying because she is hungry or tired or scared. I even know what scared her. I get her too.
And at the end of the day, I find myself praying that I'll always be this tuned into them. Maybe I won't always understand perfectly or know what they mean...but I'm always going to try. And that is what this mom business is all about.