My little baby is talking! Well, kind of talking. I know she doesn’t know what she’s saying, she’s just trying out sounds, but it’s exciting to hear her saying consonants!

It started, rather ironically, while she was being watched by grandma and grandpap (not my name for him, I call him granddaddy, but they call him pap or grandpap). So when grandma (Denise) would tell her no, and she would turn to Pap and say, “pap pap pap,” they assumed she knew who to call to for help because he can’t say no to little girls. When Eric and I went to pick her up and they told us she was calling him Pap we both scoffed at the idea that she would A) speak her first words to them and not to us, how could she possibly betray us like that, B) learn to associate a word with someone already, and C) learn the word pap so quickly when we never use that word. Not to mention she didn’t say it while we were there, nor when we got home. (I admit, I did hear her say it a couple times later that night, but very softly and only two or three times then it vanished into oblivion).

So who knows, maybe she’s a smart little bugger and learned the word that day, realized the power it held over the man who could allow her to do what she wanted, and figured out how to say it repeatedly, but then was wise enough not to abuse it too soon.

She still does her long drawn out aaaaahhhh noises while holding toys or otherwise ‘talking’ to one of us, or her little “ahboo” or “unga” cutenesses. She definitely ‘talks’ a lot, various noises and whatnot, but that was the first and only word-like noises she’d made, where there was clearly a hard consonant at the beginning.

Until yesterday.

When I got home and parked in the garage, I began my ascent up the basement steps into the kitchen to hear, “da da da da da,” very loud and very clear. I was amazed and ecstatic, “our baby is talking!” Eric told me she’d been doing it for a while, and I heard from Denise later that she’d been doing it all day. I sat on the floor and she let go of his legs and began furiously crawling toward me, “da da da da.” Ok, so it really is just a happy noise, not an association with daddy.

Then she decided to be fussy. She was hungry and tired and I had triggered those two things to become primary consciousness over her desire to play. After she nursed for a little while then became so distracted she couldn’t sit still I took her into the kitchen and set her in her high chair. I was trying to cook dinner and feed her baby supper at the same time, and when I wasn’t fast enough to pay attention to her I received an angry, “ada da da!!” I admit, it was incredibly cute. Not as cute as the angry I-don’t-want-to-take-a-nap cries with “ahboooo ahbooo” followed by raspberries, but still precious. And she gets even madder when you kiss her and tell her how adorable she is, when she’s clearly trying to get your attention back on her needs. Poor baby.

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