A Week in a House

We’re in Connellsville this week, for many reasons, primarily because Molly’s shower is this weekend and we thought we’d make a longer trip out of it. We drove in late Friday night, and the car trip went smoothly—both girls slept almost the whole time and went right back to sleep once we arrived. It’s snowy and cold here, and Lucia couldn’t be happier. There are tons of toys to play with, unending attention from the grandparents, and, a few days ago, that snow—on Sunday she shoveled and rode on a sled down the alley.

We made a Pittsburgh trip Sunday morning to visit the Clarks—and it was fun to see the five kids playing together (well, four were playing; Greta nursed and/or slept and/or sat on a lap). Lucia opened up quickly, and we had a great time all together for the first time on the East Coast.

I’ve been at the library every day this week, working on another big round of revisions to my novel. It’s harder to get away this time than it was last summer since I have an infant who needs to nurse and who must compete for Grandma’s attention with her attention-demanding sister, but I’ve managed to get work done, and Greta has survived. (And so has everyone else, so far.)

Lucia’s language development has just taken off this week, and she’s talking almost exclusively in complete sentences now, formulating sophisticated thoughts and narrating her actions and thoughts to all who will listen. She sings songs and asserts that she wants to do things her “own self.” Among the funny things she has said: “Good job, Gra,” when Mom helped her pick up Q-tips in the bathroom; “It’s not a ghost; it’s just the wind,” describing a scene from a book from the attic called Patrick Goes to Bed; “We’re all eating soup/hot dogs/etc.,” when we all sit down to eat; “Gra has to teach; I be quiet,” when Mom’s students start arriving. Her articulation is getting really good, and it’s a lot of fun just to listen to her.