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Rachel is great. Really, she is. She's doing all the wonderful things babies at her age do if not more (remember, my children are extremely advanced. They are. Just ask me :) )
Butttt...there is one thing that she hasn't done that is preoccupying 90 percent of my effort. That's right. She hasn't said "mama" yet.
So, maybe it's self centered. Maybe I carried her for nine months, act like a milking cow and wrestle her multiple times a day to get her dressed, change her diaper, avoid her getting her fingers bit off my the dog...you know, normal stuff.
Oh, she says "dada" just find. "Hi, Dada". "Dadadadadadadadadadadadadadadada". Sounds like, "Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah." to me. I mean really, where's the love?
Who gets up with you at night, Rachel? Mama. Who produces nourishment for you? Mama. Who carried you? Had labor? Suffered? Pain? Agony? That's right. Mama. But, if you want to say Dada, that's fine.
Seriously, I will sit there any try to get it out of her. Like saying it slower is going to help.
ME: "Rachel, say 'Maaaaaama'"
RACHEL: "Dada"
ME: "No, 'Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaama'"
RACHEL" "Dada"
ME: "Mama"
RACHEL: (Spitefully, with an attitude and maybe a little twinkle in her eye) "Da.Da."
ME: (Crying) "For the love! Say, 'MAMA'"
RACHEL: (Hysterically laughing) "Ginger" (yeah, that would be our dog) "Ethan" (brother) "President Bush" (well, you know).
ME: (in anguish, weakly) "mama?"
RACHEL: "Um, no. Dada"
Okay, so maybe there's a little hyperbole. But really, am I asking too much?
Butttt...there is one thing that she hasn't done that is preoccupying 90 percent of my effort. That's right. She hasn't said "mama" yet.
So, maybe it's self centered. Maybe I carried her for nine months, act like a milking cow and wrestle her multiple times a day to get her dressed, change her diaper, avoid her getting her fingers bit off my the dog...you know, normal stuff.
Oh, she says "dada" just find. "Hi, Dada". "Dadadadadadadadadadadadadadadada". Sounds like, "Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah. Blah." to me. I mean really, where's the love?
Who gets up with you at night, Rachel? Mama. Who produces nourishment for you? Mama. Who carried you? Had labor? Suffered? Pain? Agony? That's right. Mama. But, if you want to say Dada, that's fine.
Seriously, I will sit there any try to get it out of her. Like saying it slower is going to help.
ME: "Rachel, say 'Maaaaaama'"
RACHEL: "Dada"
ME: "No, 'Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaama'"
RACHEL" "Dada"
ME: "Mama"
RACHEL: (Spitefully, with an attitude and maybe a little twinkle in her eye) "Da.Da."
ME: (Crying) "For the love! Say, 'MAMA'"
RACHEL: (Hysterically laughing) "Ginger" (yeah, that would be our dog) "Ethan" (brother) "President Bush" (well, you know).
ME: (in anguish, weakly) "mama?"
RACHEL: "Um, no. Dada"
Okay, so maybe there's a little hyperbole. But really, am I asking too much?
