Ella Bird

Ella will be 6th months old on the 7th. Unbelievable!

She is currently sitting in her exersaucer talking animatedly to an elephant. Ella is my talker. She goes on and on, intonations rising and falling, explanations sans words, songs—the whole bit.

I can't wait till she has words so she can tell me what she's been saying all this time. Once and awhile she will turn and look at me and mumble something totally unintelligible to which I respond, "Ella, you're brilliant. Say that again." She obliges.

Six months with my daughter has made me so thankful for my Mom—for all that she did for me and gave to me as a daughter— All the conversations she must have had with me before I had words; the nights she continued to drag herself out of bed so that I was not left alone and hungry in my crib at all hours of the night; the thousands of kisses, the millions of hugs, the endless sacrifices of self so that I could truly know what it meant to be loved. Oh that I could pop back in time and utter my first words again.

Instead of "bla, bla, bla" I would say, "I love you Mom. You're amazing. Thank you for loving me as you did—do."

Maybe that's what Ella's saying . . . I guess can hope!