August 17th, 2003

It is a great joy to me that I can now talk with Sophia. I can ask her questions, like whether she’d prefer this or that, whether she’s enjoying something, and whether she’s happy. She’s beginning to use complete sentences, though her favored terrain is still phrases. Yesterday, a full and perfect sentence came out of her and blew me away.

We come in the front door. Sophia has lingered in the foyer, playing with the door that leads from the foyer into the living room. She is closing and opening it, not quite fully, it is never quite catching, but she is still going through the motions of opening and closing the door. I smile at her and say hello, goodbye a couple of times as she plays with the door. Then I hear the tell-tale click of the door latching securely shut. I wait to see if her practice has paid off. I hear her rattling the knob a bit.

“Would you like some help?” I call through the closed door.

“No. I do it.”

“Alright.” I move away and start to go about my business.

The knob turns this way and that, and I feel like she almost has the door open, but she’s not pulling toward herself when she’s turning, so nothing much happens. The knob goes still. I wait.

“Mama?” A casual inquiry, without fear.

“Yes, Sophia?”

“Can you open the door, please?”

“Of course, Sophia. I’d be happy to.”

I walk over and open the door. She strolls out unconcernedly, off to play with something else. I grin, filled with parental pride and the sheer joy of hearing her talk.

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