A few years ago, there was a car commercial where a Dad puts his chatty daughter into the back seat of their car. He buckles her in, shuts the door, when he gets around and into the driver's seat, she is still carrying on a very lively conversation with herself. I don't think I was pregnant yet when it aired, but Billy and I were confident that if we ever had a daughter, she'd be like that.
She is. Nora talks the entire way to and from school. I don't know if anyone besides me will find these conversations interesting, but I recorded a portion of a commute so I could look back on it and see what she was like at this age. If you're willing to spend 12 minutes watching Nora ride in a car, you will hear her compare our outfits, remind herself to be careful when she coughs, describe which family members she wants to go see, roar at the bear sign we see every day, identify her cousins and who lives with Baby Julian, and run through the gender of every person who comes to mind. She also sings Twinkle Twinkle, Where is Thumbkin, a mashup of Skidamarink and Dominic the Donkey, and begins Rain Rain Go Away before the phone cuts her off.
We never taught her any difference between boys and girls, and it has always surprised me that she almost never mixes up male and female pronouns when talking about people. In any case, she's very interested in categories right now, so announcing who is a boy and who is a girl is apparently quite fun.
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