Baby Girl's second word was "dada". After duck, this was the first word she said in reference to something, not just babbling consonant/vowel combinations. I was a teensy bit jealous, of course, but generally just so happy that she loves her daddy. I mean, I *had* been the one who had nursed her day and night for months on end, who always made sure to refer to herself in the third person so she didn't get confused....
But no, my baby girl said "dada". Fine.
I was okay with it, loved that she loves her daddy, no matter what the previous paragraph suggests.
But after a few months, after months of "duck", "truck", "quack", "shoes", "juice", "hi", "hello", "sock", "da-eeeee" (seriously...melt!)....I was really hoping to hear "mama". Or "mommy". Or even "mom".
We even fight in the car about it, she and I. I pick her up from the sitters and she sits in the back and says "DA-EEEEEEE". I tell her Daddy is at home, but we'll see him when we get there.
After a pause, I say, "Baby Girl, who am I?"
"Baby Girl, can you say 'Mommy'?"
Repeat, ad naseum or until she gets distracted and points out a semi truck driving down the road (or a pickup or a car or a motorcycle...all called "GUCK!").
But yesterday I was cooking dinner when The Hubby came in the door with Baby Girl. And the first thing I hear? "Mom?"
(be still my heart)
And then the happy stomping of those little size 4s running across our living room toward the kitchen. "Mom!" Ahhh.... Bliss.
After dinner was cooking, I went into the bathroom while Baby Girl played with her daddy. I was in there, enjoying a little bit of alone time (yes, I realize this is a little depressing, but I think most mommies will understand), when I hear "MAWWWWM" (because it's definitely said with an "aw" in the middle) and a little hand banging on the door.
This time, I wasn't upset about missing out on my alone time. I cracked the door (because my first floor bathroom is small enough that you can't open the door all the way when you're sitting down) and looked out at her. She reached her hand up to me and I kissed her little palm. She smiled, giggled and ran back to her daddy.
Now, don't think that this is happening all the time. She still called me Daddy once last night and this morning we had the same discussion in the car about Mommy versus Daddy. But knowing that she *does* know who I am and can say "mom" (even if it isn't "mommy"), I am a happy Mommy. Errr....Mom.
Dance of the Ladybugs
1 hour ago