This morning I awoke to Lydia’s little voice calling in the dark, “Mama? Are you? Mama… are you?”. It was too early for her to be up, but how could I resist my Daddy-loving daughter calling out to me for a change?
She almost never calls me Mama. Most frequently she addresses me as “UP!”. Meanwhile, she has been able to articulate a perfect “Daddy!” for six months.
Now, I know that at some point hearing her whine “Maaaaaaaamaaaaaaa!” while clinging to my legs will not always be such a welcome sound. But, at this stage, this child who can say anything she likes, who can get her tiny mouth around words like “chocolate chip” and “disgusting!” is clearly capable of pronouncing a simple word like “mama”.
And she can say it, to be sure. But, she almost never does.
So, early this morning I curled up in the darkness with my soft little toddler. Sacrificing a little more sleep for some slobbery toddler kisses and an occasional head-butt. Lydia has two settings: lover and head-butter.
Is it possible to resist these fat, buttery, chirpy little humans?
Not in this house.