Yesterday, getting ready for naptime, I ran some of Grace's stuffed animals upstairs while she played downstairs. When I got back downstairs, she said, "I made Gwammy!!"
....huh? Gracie's speech is still frequently unintelligible, but I knew what she was saying here, and she was saying she made Grammy (excuse me, Gwammy). Since that made, um, zero sense, I just smiled and said, "Okay!!" (as I frequently do when I have no earthly idea what the kid is talking about.) (Mother of the Year!!)
She persisted in saying it, even after I'd acknowledged her, which is also not unusual, but then she grabbed me and dragged me back to the windows in the dining room. This is what I saw:
I'll be damned. She made Grammy.
Grace approaches the world at her own pace. She rarely does anything ahead of schedule. It doesn't matter, for the most part. I know it doesn't. But seeing her draw a face at 2.5 years old, even though I KNOW she was taught how to do it by her retired-teacher Grammy? I'm not gonna lie, it was pretty cool. While we were still standing there, she picked up the crayon and said, "Oop-ees, pants! onnnnne pants, twoooo pants!" and drew legs. And my head, she exploded.
Now the only issue is getting her to stop drawing on the damn windows.