A performance.

Last night I very ceremoniously sat down at the piano and performed my favorite piece. It was for a brand new, very important audience. The baby. Apparently, her hearing apparatus is now in tact and she can hear voices and musical notes, car horns and telephones. When I discovered this recently, it made me cringe slightly thinking about the bearing of all those sounds on freshly originated ears. Then I liked the idea. So, I narrate like I'm a mad one: "Here comes a donut," or "that's laughter," or "that's my boss' voice - ignore him." Xavier has started in as well. He puts his mouth against my belly button and says things like (in a covert tone), "C'est ton papa qui te parle, je te parle en français parce que c'est une langue bien meilleure...et ce sera notre langue a tous les deux." (It is your dad speaking, I'm speaking to you in French because it is a much better language, and it will be ours).

I got a little nervous (like fluttering in my stomach) when I was playing the Chopin Nocturne because of my audience. The fluttering may have actually been the baby applauding because that is what she is supposed to feel like to me right about now when she claps her hands.