Ada's always been a funny little thing, from as soon as she'd mastered her first baby words.
She wasn't especially quick, learning to talk, but it's becoming apparent that this was not because she couldn't - oh no! - it was because she was considering what to say.
She treated words as disposable - she would say a word, quite clearly, but then it would never be heard again for months - like 'Well, I've done that one...what's next?'
At 10 months she quite clearly said 'elephant' to her granddad - twice. But would she repeat it...?
Not on your life. All the usual words followed this pattern then she's start to retain a few she liked the sound of like 'pooh' and 'num-num' (her word at that time for food).
She roped 'Daddy' into her collection and then 'Ganda', but the women in her life, Mummy & Nanny? No chance! Not for many months.
She came out with the name for the woman who slaves for her all day, wiping little botty, clearing manure-filled nappies, creating lovely 'num-num' on demand and generally running round like an idiot - namely 'Nanna' on one sunny afternoon, sitting in the nursery reading her favourite nursery rhyme book.
At the time, she was attending a lovely little baby music group called 'Musical Minis' and she adored it, her favourite at the time being musical statues which she'd picked up immediately, complete with the two little fingers to the pursed little mouth saying 'shh..!' when the music stopped.
So, it was only a little book, so I used to sing her the rhymes out of it twice and she used to crow with delight. Until this day. I'd just got to the beginning of the book again and little Ada, all of 14 months old, put her two little fingers of one hand to my mouth, the other hand to her ear wrinkled her little brow and said 'Nanna...Sshhhhhh!'
A music critic at 14 months! I was thoroughly demoralized.
There was me thinking I was quite good at this mothering thing, having brought my own four up okay and dozens of other people's (I had been a registerd childminder in my younger, fitter days) and I had even been a singer before me lace broke and here it was, the truth, I'd given her a headache. Oh the ignominy!
Time went on and dozens of funny things came up which I didn't have the forsight or memory to record - like her brief dalliance with a word which sounded a lot like another word because of her lisp but it was actually 'sit' as she was trying to train her dog (the dog, Izzy did as she was bidden too!) !
A couple of weeks ago, we were on our way to 'Musical Minis' (yes, she still loves it!) and we were singing songs again (...I promise you she does usually like it...!)
and in the second verse of a little ditty i'd composed especially for her, Ada put up her two fingers in a 'Pax' gesture (..not the other one...!) and proclaimed
"Enough Nanny.......I'm busy" causing me to nearly choke with laughter.
Later on that afternoon, back in her car-seat after her exertions in Musical Minis, she exclaimed 'I yawning, I tired, must need bo-boes...' and promptly snuggled down in her seat and dozed off!
All babies are funny and cute to their grandparents, I know that, but nothing prepares you for the overwhelming tide of love that you are engulfed by and the only thing I can equate it to is falling in love - but better.
I've been told not all grandparents feel this way. All I can say to that is 'poor them', never to feel this rush of warm, protective and overpowering joy at the sight of your grandbaby, even at six o'clock on a winter's morning - it must be like going straight to hell but then, I don't supopose they realize what they're missing.
I go to bed of an night-time knackered but with a huge smile on my face at the prospect of seeing my Ada again in a few hours time. It keeps me going.
It's like being a new Mum again...plus a bit of experience and minus the energy!
I love it!