Norah, today, pretending to cook with a tiny enamelware mug filled with the day’s finds–hosta seeds and teeny crabapples–very precisely, talking only to herself: “Measure-out-ing.”

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Tonight, for the first time, Norah said, “Goodnight, Daddy.”

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Norah, the other night in the kitchen while Brian and I were making dinner:
Walking around the kitchen in my red kitten heels, pink hat on her head, opening and closing the baby gate and saying, “See you Monday.”
(It’s what Yvonne says to her every Thursday afternoon when she says goodbye.)

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Tonight, while were reading our bedtime stories, I had a hard time keeping my place in “Ferdinand” because Norah was flipping through the pages we’d already read. I was managing, because we’ve read the story enough lately that I know it by heart, but it was a struggle.
“Norah, what are you looking for?”
“Bee.”
She’s obsessed with [...]

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Norah: “Tooting.”
Me: “That’s okay, just say excuse me.”
Norah: “Music.”

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