Adelaide doesn't make eye contact.
Unless you are singing to her or reciting a nursery rhyme.
Our neurologist says it can be typical for children like her.
When I want to connect with my daughter, I find myself singing her favorite songs over and over again, just for that sacred time when I know in my heart of hearts that she actually sees me.
When I sing to Adelaide, she giggles.
She grabs my face.
I cherish those moments between us, because the rest of our interactions are so atypical for a mom and daughter.
The eye contact during music time stirs something in me.
Adelaide also loves to dance.
When a favorite song comes on at home or in the car, she starts clapping.
Sometimes, she will even try to sing some of the words.
They sound like slurred vowel sounds as she experiments with the lyrics.
She cannot be consoled.
She is also scared of most classical music.
And violins are out.
We were at my mother-in-law's when a recording of an Alison Krauss concert came on.
I was about to change it, because there was Alison with a fiddle.
But Adelaide was transfixed.
She didn't grab her hair or yell.
She swayed. She danced, but not in her usual flailing way.
Her moves were fluid and relaxed.
She stared at Alison.
At the fiddle.
Her eyes never left the screen during the entire show.
Then she signed 'again' and waited to see what we do.
I have never before witnessed Adelaide so moved by something.
I was blessed watching my baby girl's response.
What is her secret?
Why does my daughter fail to even blink?
The jealousy was quickly replaced with joy as I watched Adelaide's sweet countenance.
What a gift to see our doll so engaged.
Which streaming service do you use to listen to podcasts?