Where Have All the Mamas Gone?

About six weeks ago Jeep started saying “Mama.” It started as “ma-ma-ma-ma-ma” and then slowly the pauses started to occur in the right places. I called Bea and proudly announced, “Jeeper said his first word and it was ‘Mama.’” “Are you sure he meant you?” she asked. “Of course,” I shot back defensively.

Truthfully I wasn’t exactly sure. He didn’t look lovingly into my eyes or reach longingly toward me when he said it. It really was kind of random. I believed he meant it for me because I (naturally) was around whenever I heard it.

A few days later I dropped Jeep off with Bea and her kids while I ran to the airport to pick up my brother and his family. When she brought him home she said, “Oh, he definitely is saying ‘Mama.’ After you left he cried and clung to me for a while. He would look sadly around and every now and then he would say ‘Mama’ in a forlorn little voice.” While her story broke my heart to know he missed me so much, at the same time I was bursting with pride. My baby knew how to say “Mama!”

Since then he has also learned to say “uh-oh” when he drops things, “bop” when he sees a balloon, and “baa” each night when we start his bath. Oh, and he says “Dada” now too. Actually, almost all he says these days is “Dada.” Our cat is “Dada,” a ball is “Dada,” of course Daddy is “Dada” and (I don’t want to tell you but I must be honest) even I am “Dada.” Sigh. I know I shouldn’t be competitive and truthfully I’m thrilled for Jeep to know what to call his Daddy. But I l-o-n-g to hear “Mama” again.

Until then, I’ll gladly respond to “Dada.”