William has weirdly decided to sleep in today, so I thought I'd snag a few minutes to talk about what he's been up to lately, not counting the boring old sickness stuff.
So a month or so ago, William started saying "Mama." He's been saying "Dada" since, oh, January. I carried the child for nine months, threw up in strange bathrooms all over California for most of those months, and gave birth to him, but whose name did he say first? His dad's. David crowed with delight when William started calling him by name around the time of his (David's) birthday, and I waited anxiously for William to begin saying my name, too. I figured, it wouldn't be too long. Ha. But I have to say, it was well worth the wait. I'll say, "William, can you say Mama?" and he smiles and says in a I-know-how-much-you-love-this-so-I-am-going-to-be-as-cute-as-possible-when-I-say-it tone of voice, "Mama!"
Sometimes, he adds an extra syllable for emphasis, so I become "Mamama." 'S okay with me. It's really so very wonderful either way. David tells William that he could probably get away with anything as long as he coos "Mama" to me first, and sadly, he's probably right. I'm a sucker for hearing William's little voice say that word.
Of course, the other side of this is that William's word for "monkey" is very similar to "Mama." Uh huh. I'm not sure what to make of that. David swears they are different, and they are, if you listen closely. "Monkey" is "munmun." But then again, William's current versions of "car" and "cat" sound almost identical, too. Nothing else sounds like "Dada," though. Hmmm! When William hears the garage door open, he always shouts "Dada!" He knows his daddy is arriving home at last. Usually he continues to say "Dada" until he actually sees David walk through the door. David says that, after a long day of seeing patients, it's really really nice to be greeted by a small boy with a face covered in spaghetti/macaroni/cantaloupe juice shouting "Dada" with a big smile on his face, as if you are Elvis walking onto the stage in front of a delirious frenzied audience.
Oh yes, and William is starting to try to imitate more words. You already know about "wow" and "go." Now he's trying to imitate "stinky" and "dirty," which, as you may have guessed, tend to accompany diaper changes. He understands so much more than he can really say, so if I ask him if he's dirty, he sometimes will grab at his diaper and look hopeful or he will grab a fresh diaper out of the bag on his changing table. He knows what I'm asking, but he doesn't yet have the vocabulary to answer me very well. But he's trying. Sometimes he just throws up his arms and speaks gibberish, and we just know he's desperately trying to tell us something. We jokingly have started saying, "William, use your words!" I bet it's only a matter of time before he has even more words to use.
So he continues to try to talk more. And he's now practially running, not just walking. I literally chased him around the parlor at church on Sunday morning, as he gleefully ran laps around the furniture and the chattering church members after the 11 a.m. service. Imagine a small tornado in a blue smocked outfit and red Robeez dashing around, occasionally falling splat! on the floor only to get back up and lunge forward again. That was William after church. Now that he more or less can run, he likes to take advantage of wide spaces that let him do so. Church is the perfect venue for that. We had to chase him down in order to take him home, and he was Not Pleased about that. Poor kid.
Well, I hear him talking in his crib at last. That's all the news for now.