So yet another interesting facet of life with Ms. Daphne has been the cacophonous range of noises she makes.  And I’m happy to say that her vocal stylings are becoming less like a startled pterodactyl, and more like those of a human being.
A slightly squeaky human being to be sure, but human nonetheless.

For scale, her tiny hand grabs my index finger near the end. 

I didn’t get a recording of it, but she was giggling and cooing in her playmat this morning and the range of octaves she’s hitting now is quite remarkable.  Perhaps this change is attributable to all the shrieking she does in the evenings, right about the time Dad gets home from a long day at work…  Yes, I want to believe that her nightly laryngeal fireworks are having some kind of positive net effect, and are a necessary evil of her overall development.  Because the alternative is that she’s just really, really unhappy to see me.

“Oh the email server went down today did it?  Allow me to sing the mournful song of my people for you.”

She’s starting to make enough “normal” noises that we’re getting an idea of what her little voice will sound like.  And that is awesome.  Perhaps it’s high time I started her on some typical conversational phrases.

Like, “The web-footed grave-robber has earrings that match his dune buggy.”
Or, “That rhinoceros just swindled my barcalounger!”
And the classic, “I would like to feed your fingertips to the wolverines.“

See you tomorrow.

j.s.