Scarleht is running now, no doubt about it. Lyli looks into my voice recorder and says 'Gallut' for 'Scarleht' - they'll both say that but neither will say Lyli as of yet. Lyli manages to squeak out the 'li' part after she says 'Gallut' sometimes. Other new words: door, up, dradle, go, apple, shoe (as of 10 seconds ago when I asked). Potty is becoming more distinctive, 'manima' remains the catch-all possesive, chicken and sister still sound exactly alike. In the last few days both Scarleht and Lyli have started using the word 'No' for what it is intended for occasionally, rather than their happy little no dance of the past week and a half.

The sponge that is their little language acquisition portion of their brain is going great guns right now. What little bits my distracted sense of attention notices blow me out of the water. I hear them try to say at least 20 new words a day and work on perfecting the words from the day before. I have been trying to instill a sense of time through signs these past few days, having learned the signs for today, yesterday and tomorrow. Soon I will begin using a voice recorder and our polaroid camera to make a little guided tour of the past week that we can sit down and go over and talk about. I really enjoy asking Lyli and Scarleht what they remember from the past. The other day Scarleht came up and smelled my coffee and I almost lost it. Six months ago (maybe more) she wanted a drink of my coffee and I said no but I added that she could smell it if she wanted. I haven't been drinking much coffee for the past year or so and so it didn't come up again. But the other day we were selling books at Evergreen and my friend brought me a cup of coffee and sure enough, Scarleht ran right up and leaned over and sniffed very daintily but assuredly. How long do these sensory memories remain in the forefront of their consciousness, I wonder. And when do they begin to fade to make way for the more regimented, delineated and sorted memories and experiences of our lives as we grow older?