Say my name

For about a minute, Sebastian called me “mama”. That turned into “nana” which now appears to mean any kind of food or beverage and I usually have to point to several things before I guess the right one.

“nana”

“bottle?”

“naaana”

“puffs?”

“naaaaaaaana!”

“water? blueberries? banana? bread? This delicious mix of [insert homemade baby food mix here] that you haven’t let me put into your mouth any other time I’ve tried?”

Eventually I get it right, or he gets bored and decides he no longer wants the “nana” he wanted in the first place.

One word is getting very consistent with is “Dada”. For a bit it seemed like “Dada” could really be anything he really liked. His blanket, his dad, even me. Now, without fail whenever Jason walks in the door he looks up and smiles and says “Dada”, crawls over to the hallway to confirm and says “aaaay Daada” with a huge smile on his face.

Last night Jason had to work past bedtime, and while Sebastian and I were playing we heard a neighbors door shut close enough that Baz thought it was ours.

“Dada?”

“No, I’m sorry baby, no Dada.” So I pointed to myself. “Mama’s here though, right? I’m Mama. Maaaama”

He picked up a toy cow we were playing with and answered very clearly.

“Mooo.”

Thanks baby. Thank you for that.

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