Eliot underwent a big burst of language development while we were away. She woke up at 6am on Sunday morning calling out "This is Mum! This is Adoo! [Anselm] This is Dad!". When I brought her into our room to try to preserve Anselm's sleep, she went off into an hour long recitation, with all her consonants snapped into place, correct plural and genitive 's' endings, and long lists of names and objects, with their appropriate colors. We are comfortably used to our laconic, pithy and poetic son, and I don't know if we can handle a chatty child, especially that early in the morning.
She loved meeting all the new people-- anyone who was in the lift with us. "That?" elicited introductions from, say, Tom and Bill. "Hi Tom! Hi Bill! Name Eliot!" [pointing to herself.] "Bye bye Tom! Bye bye Bill!".
She has discovered a way of defusing trouble when she, for instance, puts her bowl on her head or drops something from the table-- she yells out "EL-iOT!!".
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