Baby Talk

The other night Henry woke up at 3am, rearin’ to go and play. He insisted George take him to play, but he was being so loud, chitchatting up a storm, that he woke up all of us. A storm came and we listened to the thunder and watched the lightning flash through our bedroom and giggled under the covers. Pure magic. The last thing he did before FINALLY falling back asleep was stare at his thumb and say “Bebe, fumb, bebe, fumb.” He is speaking so much, but still speaks in his own little language. A car is a “vroom vroom.” Stairs are “down down.” Dogs are “Voof Voofs.” Kitties are “titties.”The extraordinary thing is he’s potty training himself! He’s not even 2! He says “poop” or “potty”  and actually uses it. Completely amazing.

Picture of Marci Darling

Marci Darling

I lie here on my pink puffy bed in my pink silky pajamas, or pink flannel depending on my mood (the only thing you can bank on is that there will be chocolate smeared somewhere on my attire), with my pink feathered pen, writing my most delicious daydreams. Funny? Sometimes. Scandalous? Hopefully. Inspiring? Perhaps. Full of love? Always. Welcome to my World.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

  • STAY CONNECTED

    SUBSCRIBE TO UPDATES

    PICK A CATEGORY

    MY BOOKS ON GOODREADS

    RECENT POSTS

    SPECIAL ACCOLADES