Finding Her Voice

Two weeks down and two weeks left of my paternity leave. So far, I’ve changed at least sixty diapers and given around ten baths. I’ve warmed up about thirty bottles and been spit up on that many times, as well. Remember that’s only a two-week stint.

The daily routine begins when Finley decides it’s time to get up. Lucky for us, that’s been anywhere between 6:00 am and 8:00 am on the average. Usually mommy is getting ready for work while I give Finley her morning meal. After a quick burp and a change, it’s play time. For the both of us.

We try to mix up back time with tummy time. She spends so much time on her back sleeping and sitting that any time on her tummy, lifting her head, is a bonus. It not only gives her a different perspective of the world, but strengthens her neck and arm muscles and gives her a chance to learn how to roll over. A trick she’s beginning to figure out. She’s not quite mastered it yet, but she’s learning.

Then there are the daddy-designed exercises and gymnastics routines. And although these are created by the daddy, they are not necessarily recognized by the U.S. Physical Education or Gymnastics councils or by mommy, for that matter. But, she smiles a lot and is beginning to realize that the laughing and squeaking noises she hears are coming from her. In fact, as every day goes by, Finley is discovering new and unusual sounds and practicing them on Mommy and Daddy.

It started out quietly enough as little squeaks. She’s been squeaking since day one and her laughs are punctuated by the little high-pitched sounds. Then she moved on to this little growling noise. It’s mostly a sound related to frustration, but she’ll pull it out of nowhere sometimes. Every once in awhile, especially when she’s settling down, she’ll come up with a raspberry noise. She likes to make spit bubbles, so it was inevitable that the raspberry was next. But the noise that she is mastering the most is the one that makes Heather and I look at each other and laugh. She is learning how to scream.

It’s such a high-pitched shriek that it almost sounds like a whistle. At first she started doing it for pretty much no reason. Out of the blue, we’d hear this screech. But now she’s starting to associate it with a bit of anger. When she’s tired of being in the same place or just not happy at all, she’ll blow her whistle, just to let us know she’s in charge.

Something tells me this is only the beginning. The beginning of the noises, the frustration and the reminder of who’s the Princess. She’ll be discovering her voice as she sings, cries, yells and because I’m her dad, make many, many more interesting noises. And I can’t wait.