Genevieve is chatty. Odd that any daughter of mine could be described this way, given my antisocial tendencies, but apparently this is the situation. She likes to talk. And talk. And talk. Only problem is, no one has any idea what she is saying.

Jason and I have gotten used to her endless babble, only half paying attention to the noises she utters, able to pick out the few intelligible words she has mastered due to the fact that the pitch and tenor of her voice changes when she is trying to make a word as opposed to just making random sounds. We have some experience in such things, having listened to the incessant musings of Jo for 20-odd years. It’s similar, but more interesting since Jo pretty much got stuck at hello (or “whoa” in Jo-speak). We have higher hopes for G, who can clearly utter at least 10-20 words. Whew. At least she is smarter than a bird.

I always have the same reaction when I catch G making a new word…”How long has she been saying that?” I get the instant sensation of being a terrible person whose neglectful parenting is damaging her daughter’s early attempts at language…how could I have missed this? How long has she been saying “peas” when I thought she was just babbling? How long have I been trying to shove yogurt down her throat when she has been saying “all done” over and over and over? She must think she has dullards for parents. Maybe she does.

Then there’s the time she comes home from day care with new words: “nose” “eyes” and “ears” all came from there, as did “bubbles” (a favorite) and god-knows-what else. Do the teachers there have a better decoder ring than me? Who knows. Apparently they get drawn into conversation with her, whether they want to or not. Is she that person you sit next to on the plane, with no book, magazine or other distraction, just itching to tell you her life story? God I hope not.