little changes

I was starting to get a little concerned when relatives, friends, and strangers would intermittently ask if Declan was talking yet, and I had to say, "No, not really." He grunted, he gestured, he started panting like an excited puppy and danced a little jig if I made a motion towards something he wanted me to give him. Daniel's family friend, who has a PhD in early education, said it's common for kids growing up in bilingual homes to verbalize a little later. My friend, a speech therapist who works mostly with children, said Declan's very physically communicative and has strong eye contact, so it's cool.

And then, it seemed all of a sudden, he started making sense. Now Declan says, quite clearly, ball, balloon, bubbles, tree, mama, daddy, popo (grandma), yee yee (Cantonese for "aunt"), cat, dog (accompanied with "woof woof"), bird, airplane, diaper, water, shoes, flower. Hm...what else. That's all I can remember at the moment. Some of these words are in Chinese, some in English, some in both. He also sometimes points to my nipples after nursing and says "da da". I...don't know what that means.

Also, I'm currently taking a night writing class, and I have to say it's a bit of a like-hate relationship as of now. On one hand, I think most of the other people's writing really suck (to be perfectly honest--inner cringe at my snobbery). On the other hand, I am not sure if I am not one of them. What I am sure of: I am learning better writing techniques. I am learning what people appreciate in stories. I am learning to make time during the days to actually sit down and write.

It would be nice if I could become a professional writer one day. Have to start somewhere, right?

Tomorrow is Daniel's and my third-year wedding anniversary. This morning, instead of working out after we put Declan in the Y's kid's gym, we sat on the couch in the community room and kind of hashed out the state of our union from engagement up to now, and what we hope for in the future.

Later in the afternoon, Declan tore a piece of his pinkie's skin off while playing with the tea kettle. He literally cried all the way to the park. (I slipped him into the Ergo and walked him to Meridian Park after he cried and cried through my cleaning the wound and trying to put a bandaid over it. Getting him out of the house and hopefully distracting him with other things seemed the only way to stop him from trying to pull his finger off.) Once at the park, we ended up befriending another mom, who told me to email her as we said good-bye. Really, it was only a few sentences of exchange about our kids. It's so nice to meet friendly people who genuinely mean their friendliness.

P.S. In writing class today, the instructor asked me what I do all day. As in, what my profession is. My mind went blank before I replied, "Oh, I basically take care of my son all day." "Ah," he said, "I had a lot of friends who used to write a lot, and then once they had kids, they didn't write again until 20 years later." Sooooo encouraging. Also, I'm really mad at myself for (1) not mentioning the editing jobs I occasionally get here and there and (2) feeling the need to justify myself in this way. Bah.