The Greatest Conversation

I have had a few opportunities to be away from my daughter this month. Earlier was to attend a ladies conference overnight and just recently I was out of town for an operation (I had my jaw moved for comfort and bite reasons and look forward to good results after 30 years of issues). Of course, each time I was away I missed her immensely. But, having spent so much time with her I'd never before had the opportunity to talk to her on the phone. 

And the experience made me giddy like a child.  

At the conference, I called her in the morning. She immediately announced, "I love you, mom!" My heart melted. The rest of the conversation consisted of me asking questions and her copying word for word. 

"Are you with Daddy?"

"With Daddy."

"Are you having a good day?"

"A good day."

"Are you going for a walk?"

"Going for a walk."

"Are you going to the bottle depot?"

"The bottle depot."

Even though she just repeated, I loved this new experience of talking to her over the phone. She knew I wasn't there but that I was talking to her. And she was happy. She has such a loving, amazing, devoted daddy. And she ended the call with a few more declarations of I love you.

Yesterday, I talked to her from the hospital after she returned from supper at Grandma and Grandpa's. She mostly copied but told me a little bit more, with Daddy's help. Then I asked her if they were going to watch Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. She became very excited. "Chitty Bang Bang! Chitty Bang Bang!" She wants to watch it but only makes 10 or 20 minutes before declaring she's done. It has given her a new favorite lullaby. "Hushabye Mountain." Currently it is the only one she wants.

Her phone ability has greatly progressed. It seemed to take forever that to convince her to actually place it near her ear. She would hold it on top of her head. But she was making her effort to do what he saw we were doing. One step at a time. 

Right now I have returned home and I am relaxing before my little chatter box gets dropped off by my mom from her day care. I love listening to my curious girl's commentaries. Her excited recollection of events. She often brings up the fire alarm that happened at the school last week. It meant, "Everybody out!" I'm frequently explaining to people, even strangers, why she is animatedly, with a bit of seriousness, talking about fires.

I miss her muchly. And even though I am tired with a sore jaw, as one trip to the pharmacy required explaining, through gritted teeth, my situation to a dozen people, I look forward to seeing her. Maybe tonight I can get her to read her books to me.