Diligently, I read to my child. I wipe her nose. I prepare nutritious meals, which, more often than not, I pick up off of the floor. I bathe her. I teach her and nurture her. As a parent, it is my responsibility to sculpt a capable adult from this squirmy lump of clay. Some days, it is harder to see the adult emerging from the clay. Others provide clear glimpses of progress. Her most recent progress has been made in her exploding capacity for speech and language. She recognizes and names pictures. She has started to put phrases together. Today, she recognized her first letter and called it by name.
We picked up lunch at McDonald's yesterday on our way home. Halfway through the meal, Aveline points at the golden arches on my cup and gleefully chirps "Ehhmmmm!"
I beamed. Surely my child is a genius. She identified a letter at nearly 19 months of age. Then I realized what letter it was.
Before I put her to bed that night, she could also recognize and name the letter O.
Hey. It's Michigan week. I don't take my duty as a sculptor lightly.