We read (mostly) the same poems from the same big beautiful Mother Goose book every single day, by H's request, and she loves it. She always asks first for the "bird one," which is "Sing a song of sixpence, etc." and she sings it with me, and we clap our hands. Finally, a classic fairy-tale child of my very own, though I don't believe she's mine at all... :-)
Cute and near-constant indecisiveness: No! I mean yes. Achlee no. Achlee yes.
Looking at a dress she wants to wear: Mama, is it cleeened? And: I can put my pah-zha's on myself..... first my ahms, now my feeets... no, don' zip me! I can zip myself!
Mornings, when I come downstairs to wake her: Mama, are you dressed? (yes.) Oh, mama--you're dressed! Did you make my oats? (yes.) Oh, thank you, mama.
Sometimes I sic Saul on her (i.e. open door for him to come in and babble at her) and she tells me (as if I didn't orchestrate it): Mama! Saulie waked me up! He was tahkin' to me in my bed!
She pulls out a siddur almost daily, and sings very Hebraic-sounding nonsense syllables, with great kavanah, and Saulie has been joining her. They sit around the dining room table, singing and thumbing books, for nearly a half an hour at a stretch. Some of Hannah's davening goes like this: "A-koo-ma-tah, a-kooo-mee-ya-tah (repeat many times)." Yasha wanders around restlessly, tearing books away, throwing them to the floor, stopping for a second to "daven," too, losing interest, and attempting to bite the offenders with the good attention spans. Mama scurries about doing damage control and hugging the suddenly-needy Yasha (arousing brother's jealousy). The twins have hit a rough spot in the process of growing from blobby babies into real persons. But that is another story.
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