Nell

Petranella is far and away our busiest baby. Madie and Finn were both early talkers--they listened to what people said and it always marveled me to listen to them--at 17 or 18 months--start to mimic the influxes of our voices and even piece together two-word sentences.

Nell isn't so much that way--don't get me wrong, she chats it up all day long with anyone who'll stay around long enough. But the mimicry isn't there. Nonetheless, she observes her siblings closely as far as the things they do. She doesn't necessarily follow suit, per se, but rather, these observations put ideas in her head. One morning, Finn pushed a chair up to the counter to help me with some cooking (one of his favorite activities). Petya had never done this before, though she has climbed up on many chairs and stools that were already at the counter when her older brother or sister took off to the bathroom. This particular morning, I had been up a lot the night before--I can't remember why now, but kids is a safe bet--and told Finn I was going into my room to rest for a few minutes after breakfast. I had cleaned up the kitchen and was lying with my eyes closed (but very much awake--go figure) on my bed. I heard a chair being pulled across the floor in the kitchen and I thought it was probably Petya pulling it out from the table to climb up. No big deal--I had cleared all but a couple of plastic cups from the table and from it she could reach nothing. She mostly liked to sit on her knees and slide herself forward and backward across it; unless, of course, there was something more interesting up there. 

Nell observes me through a magnifying lens.

After a while I decided 10 minutes of "rest" wasn't worth wondering what all the silence in the kitchen was about, so I got up and went out to find Nellie had pulled a chair from the far end of the table to a counter, upon which I had set a mug and an almost-empty honey bottle to let the last bit of honey drain. Before I had lain down, I had checked and seen 2 inches of honey in the bottom of the mug with not much left in the bottle. Now I found approximately an inch spread over the chair, counter, and Petya's face and only about 1/2 an inch in the bottom of the mug. I'm guessing the last 1/2 inch was somewhere between her sticky fist and her esophagus.

Watching Madie learn a dance in gymnastics.

Despite her climbing upon everything and her early toddlerhood being filled with bloody noses, bashed heads, broken dishes, and a lot of maternal anxiety, Petya has finally developed some sense of caution. Yes, she does go up and down the steep, slippery stairs to our playroom on her own--and facing forward no less--but she has learned to take it slow, that sometimes it's safer to do it alone than with a well-meaning older sibling's help, and that if she feels unsafe at all, turning around and going down backward will get her there in relatively the same time and with fewer bruises. Still, I have not witnessed many panicked expressions on her face. (Except for that time she messed in the tub. THAT was a panicked expression, accompanied by truly terrified screaming.) 

Petya accompanied me to the grown-up section of the library one day. Here she is checking out a book on French cuisine.

This isn't to say we don't keep a watch on her--on the contrary, although she has developed caution for some circumstances, she continues to display an age-appropriate lack of respect for the dangers of others. As a case, take animals. Nell loves animals. Much more than either of my other two at this age. I remember walking with Madie and any time we saw a dog, I would try to point it out. Complete disinterest. Finn was a similar story. Not Nell. Any animal, be it the woodpecker that comes to our feeder every day or a crow at the park; the neighbor's dog she's seen and pet a hundred times or a cat crossing the road--if it catches Petya's eye (and trust me, it will catch her eye), she points it out. "'Ook! 'Ook! 'Ook!" over and over until I do and respond. Because of this, we do have to watch her around strange dogs and cats. Unless we hold on, she will run right up to them. 

For the record: they are also worth being abandoned for. 

"Come, Petya. Let's go. Nell, come on. Petranella. I'm leaving, Nellie. Nell! Come on, now! Bye bye." 

Enjoying a blueberry smoothie.

Of course, she does speak some recognizable words. Most of her chatter is gibberish, but she clearly says Mumma and Dada, and even a couple friends' names, like Anna and Caroline (although I think I'm the only one who can tell she's saying Caroline--it's a big name!). And she says, "Pop! Pop!" when we sing a child's song, "Popcorn Popping." She says look, watch, and dog, all fairly clearly, and please. 

And tonight I got her very first, "I-uh-you."