Conversations

M has a knack for the art of conversation, starting from the first day she was born.  Proud Papa was attempting to change his first diaper on his first newborn, after three days of little to no sleep.  M was not liking it one bit and had no reservations telling him so by crying out, "Yooooooo baaaaaaa! [you bad]"  Well, that's what I distinctly remember.  Although, I had been in labor for  five days without sleep, so my perceptions may be a bit skewed.

But once we brought her home, I just KNEW that she was calling out for me when she cried.  She would pull the corners of her mouth down, her lower lip forming a perfect "M", whimper, and then cry, "Mmmaaa!  MA!  Mum!"  To which I gleefully would scoop her up, tell her that Mommy was here and was going to take care of her and that everything was all right.  

Why gleeful?  Because M believes she doesn't really need Proud Parents for anything but entertainment and food.  So when she cries for Mommy, it's a rare opportunity for me to cuddle and snuggle and spoil her.

But now that she realizes Mommy is ALWAYS here, she doesn't cry for Mommy much anymore, to my dismay.  In fact, once she realized that her vocal chords were the ones making all the noise, and that Proud Parents always respond to that, she much prefers yelling over crying anyway.

As she began to realize that her mouth could form other shapes and her voice could make other sounds than just crying and inwardly-gasping laughing, she jumped right into conversation--discussing everything from the weather to politics.  She would carefully play with the muscles of her mouth to get them to form in just the way she wanted them so she could say exactly what she wanted to say.

One day, during a quiet moment after playtime, she sat down with Proud Papa and very seriously reprimanded in her little voice him for not burping or changing her to her satisfaction.  Once he apologized, everything was right in the world again and they went back to playing happily.

Just as she greets the day with song (or so she thinks), she peppers her sleep-time with banter as well.  Soundlessly, the exchange coming from her lips look something like this: "Buh buh boo, mah guhguh guh . . . lolololol lllll uh.   K k k ooooo ahhh.  Ooh wah ooh wah wah wah wuh.  Pppppfff."

And then there was the real thing:

After a period of babbling back and forth to each other, M suddenly stops and slowly but deliberately says, "Ah uhhh ooooo."

Knowing that she's still having trouble with consonant pronunciation, I interpreted this to mean the three little words, to which I responded, "You love me?!  Well, I love you more!"

She furrowed her brow into a scowl and sternly replied, "OOO!"

I guess she begged to differ.