My daughter is at a fabulous age. Why? Because she is an 11-month-old mimic – the possibilities are endless. Amelia’s daddy and I spend so much time laughing at her that our daughter has taken up laughter as a hobby. I have thus named her ‘the chuckler’. Amelia also roars like a lion, courtesy of her daddy, and I have spent all of today quacking, meowing, mooing, baaing and oinking in the hope of my little chuckler making some animal noises in between her random bursts of laughter. As with the chuckling Amelia no longer roars in response to us, she roars at random intervals and I often here my precious lion cub roaring away to herself as she stomps her way down the passage.
My roaring chuckler can clap but that is only second best to her newly acquired wave. I am trying to teach her that a wave is accompanied with a “hello” or “goodbye” but my little lovely waves at me every five minutes, at least. We were on the tube the other day and we found ourselves sitting opposite a little girl, about 7 years old, who was with her mommy and her granny. Amelia was besotted with the child and stared her familiar unblinking stare, which was only broken when granny waved at Amelia. The ladies didn’t know what they had let themselves in for – Amelia took it upon herself to show off her expert waving skills… repeatedly. After a ten minute waving marathon the little girl eventually put her head in her hands and in tired exasperation said “Oh no, not again”, as Amelia raised her hand for yet another wave. It was truly hysterical, and even more so because Amelia was not in the least put off by the little girl’s dwindling response – she just carried on waving.
We have shown our little mimic how to draw, and books have been an obsession for the longest time; Amelia will even page through pictureless novels – turning pages of any sort can amuse her for ages. But my favourite Amelia trick of the moment is her drumming ability. We bought our little chuckling, roaring 
waver a xylophone, some maracas and a tambourine. She uses the maracas and the xylophone stick to drum on a make shift drum kit comprising tins and boxes. As she bangs happily on her kit, she always looks up with a smug expression on her face, expecting a “well done Amelia” for her brilliant banging effort. And of course, her look is greeted with ecstatic applause, praise and cheers – it’s like a mini-concert that I am certain our neighbours do not appreciate as I do. Amelia also treats her xylophone stick as a magic wand – moving around the house tapping everything in her sight. I love to watch her royal fairyness in action.
One of the best things about being a parent is interacting with a little being who is experiencing life’s treasures for the very first time – it is both refreshing and funny. The innocence inherent in my daughter’s exploratory spirit is so beautiful, and I feel utterly privileged to participate in her discovery of the world and its marvellous wonders.
