“Mommy.” Soft, content, confident.
“Yes, Benjamin.”
“Mommy?” Pitch playfully raised.
“Yes, Benjamin.”
“Mommy …” Last syllable smoothed out.
“Yes, Benjamin.”
And thus it continues.
He’s been saying Mommy for months, but suddenly he’s discovered it’s more than just a word — it’s a name. Better yet, it is her name — the one who carried him nine months, gave birth to him, cares for him every day, flirting, laughing, snuggling.
So in the morning his little voice speaks into the stillness: Mommy. From the carseat as they pull into the parking lot: Mommy. Looking up suddenly from playing with a Christmas toy: Mommy, each time mouthing the syllables as if relishing them.
He’s doing more than checking on whether she’s there and paying attention. He is declaring: I’ve figured out who you are. I understand how we’re connected. And I know this world you bore me into is good.
December 28, 2006 at 7:35 am |
Every once in a while he squeaks in a Daddy too, but nowhere near as often as Mommy. That’s okay — hearing him play this game with my wife is so sweet I don’t mind. Plus, after everything she’s done for that kid over the last year and a half, she could use a little acknowledgment from him.
January 3, 2007 at 1:06 pm |
What moments we are graced with sometimes. My son (14 months) thinks everyone is DA DA. My oldest daughter (15) was in the upstairs bedroom and he was crawling over to the bottom of the stairs and heard her upstairs. He yelled up the stairs “Da Da” and waited for a reply. I was right next to him so I know he wasn’t calling me. He kept calling until my daughter finally replied. Then he let out a big laugh of satisfaction, knowing he could make someone come when he called.