Hey, remember a month ago, when I mentioned that J didn’t talk? And a few of people promised me that it would eventually happen, and it would explode? Yup. That happened. It’s fucking adorable.
I went away for work, and came home to find that J had learned her first two syllable word: mommy. Amusingly, we eventually figured out that mommy actually means pictures, probably as David kept showing her pictures of me and saying mommy. That association has lingered. But that was the start, and now words are coming even faster than the teeth. (J: no teeth until 12.5 months old. Within the last 2.5 weeks, she got 5 teeth, including two molars. Most slipped in unnoticed, but sadly, not all.)
As this blog is basically me just outsourcing my thoughts and memories… Here’s an incomplete list of what she says now: no, baby, bye bye, hi, nana (banana), wat dat (what’s that), more (complete with insistent sign language), wa (water), ME (milk, and yes, it’s that insistent), du (duck), be (bear), ami (hungry), shoes, sock, no(se), ear, eye (complete with violent poking motion), ders (shoulders), fee(t), bu bu (belly button), knee, apple (which seems to mean all fruit), mama, mommy, dada, up, boc (book), ouchie, owie, and my personal favourite, nigh night. Which she does when she’s ready for a nap, or when she’s imaginative playing, by putting stuffed animals to bed and covering them with blankets. Actually, the imaginative play alone is fascinating to watch – she’s started to eat pretend food, feed the stuffed animals pretend food, and pretend to nap (usually in downward dog position). She knows several animal noises, and when we went to the Stampede, she lost her tiny little mind when she saw her first cow. She was frantic with excitement – pointing and yelling “moo!” Her thought process seemed to be: OH MY GOD YOU GUYS THE THING FROM MY BOOKS THAT GOES MOO IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME OH MY GOD IT’S SO BIG OH MY GOD THERE’S ANOTHER ONE MOOOOOOOO! Totally, totally adorable. (And then a horse sneezed in her face and freaked her out really badly and there starts a lifelong phobia, oops.) I’m in the middle on a mild library reno, and the walls are currently patched and waiting paint, and J’s totally unable to even see the room without urgently pointing out all the owiest that the room has, and we keep promising to fix them, but that’s apparently cold comfort to a baby concerned about the room’s feelings.
Man, this age? This age is the freaking best. I love my kid so, so much. I wish I could send a message back to myself in the early weeks, in the darkest pits of PPD, depressed and exhausted, confused by this blob of need, and show her just how fucking great it will be.