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Me: Aletheia, is that your blood on your face?

Aletheia: No.

Me: Aletheia, is that someone else’s blood on your face?

Aletheia: [silence]

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Me: are you drowning your turtle, Aletheia? Aw, our little sociopath.

Tiff: as long as you’re a high functioning sociopath. You could be a CEO!

(This is what we talk about when Aletheia is getting her bath).

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Aletheia started using a new plosive today: /b/ followed by either a liquid /l/ or fricative. Opens up a whole new section of her phonemic inventory!

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First day on the planet

So far this morning, Aletheia has listened to Daft Punk’s new album, the theme from Ru Paul’s Drag Race and our favorite quotes from Silence of the Lambs…. “It rubs the lotion on its skin…”

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The doctor said our baby has “a beautiful aortic root” which of course got me thinking of my fav line from the Wife of Bath’s tale: “It tikleth me aboute myn herte roote.” Which (of course) makes one think of Skelton’s line “He ys the kynges derlyng and his swete harte rote.” All this to say, I have a new nickname for the baby: myne herteroote. Right up there next to “mon petit chou.”