“I Just Understand Her”

One day, my toddler was talking to my neighbours. They’re unmarried and not used to baby talk, so they couldn’t understand a single word she was saying —

except one: “Go!”

They smiled politely, nodded, and looked at me for help.

I laughed and translated:

She was speaking in her own little baby language — words that only made sense to her. I stood behind her, translating everything she meant. The girls looked at me in surprise and asked, “How do you understand her?”

The same thing happens with my younger sister too. Whenever she talks to my child, I’m always there like a translator. Whether someone wants to play with her or just have a conversation, I end up translating. Even my husband sometimes turns to me and says,

“What is she saying?”

And every time, people ask me the same thing:

“How do you get her language?”

A Thought That Came to Me

Today, all of a sudden, a thought crossed my mind —

How do I actually understand her?

Is it because I’m her mother?

Maybe.

But maybe it’s more than that.

And I think I’ve finally understood the reason.

I remember —

when I was unmarried and saw other mothers understanding their babies,

I used to be amazed.

The baby wasn’t even saying a clear word,

yet the mother understood everything.

I would wonder, “How does she know what the baby wants?”

It felt like magic.

And now, I get it.

Maybe it’s because I’ve watched my daughter every single day —

every blink, every giggle, every tear, every tiny sound.

Maybe it’s because my heart listens,

not just my ears.

Little Words, Big Meaning

Her words aren’t always clear.

She’s only just started speaking a little — using broken sentences and skipping helping verbs.

But somehow, I always understand.

Whenever she tries to say something new —

word she’s never said before —

she looks at me with a spark in her eyes, full of effort.

Instead of saying, “What are you doing?”

she says, “What doing?”

Instead of “I want to eat an apple,”

she says, “I want appuu.”

Instead of “I want you to blow the balloon,”

she says, “I want boo boon.”

She wants banana chips and says:

“I want eat appu chips.”

(Appu chips — her way of saying banana chips.)

And when she’s thirsty, she says:

“Want oonn…”

Because she hasn’t yet learned to say “water.”

So I softly repeat,

“You mean… you want to drink some water?”

Her face lights up.

“YES! YES!” she exclaims.

Her joy is pure. Her smile says it all.

And in that moment, I feel so proud — so connected.

I pat my heart and think,

“Wow. I understand her language.”

She doesn’t always say the word,

but I understand what she wants.

Because I know that look in her eyes.

That little pause.

That soft sound.

That tiny tug at my hand.

And without her saying it clearly,

I give her water.

And there are so many more “N” number of words and incomplete sentences she has said, is saying, and will say in the days to come.

No full sentences.

No perfect words.

Still — I understand.

And deep inside me, I fill with happiness and pride.

In that moment, I pat myself again and think,

“Wow. You actually understand what she means.

A Little Habit of Mine

That’s why I make it a habit.

At the end of the day, I write down her new words, her funny sentences — even if they’re broken — along with the date.

So one day, when I read them again, I remember the exact moment she says them… and how I feel.

But Sometimes… I Miss a Few

Yes, sometimes I forget.

In the excitement, in the moment of happiness, I forget to write things down.

She says something sweet, and I’m so caught up smiling at her that I don’t even notice it’s her “first time” saying it.

And later, I feel a little sorry inside.

Like — “Oh no, I forgot to note that one down!”

But You Know What?

It’s okay.

It’s natural. It just means I am fully present in the moment — with her, not with my pen.

And Still, the Bond Remains

So when someone asks,

“How do you understand her so well?”

My answer is simple:

“I don’t know how, but I just understand.”

And every time I say that, I smile.

Because that bond? That connection?

It doesn’t need perfect words.

It only needs love. ❤️