I’ve heard “Mumma” five times, and only when Fae’s been really upset. When I try to get her to say it she laughs at me–she really does. She’s always laughed at the word “Mumma,” or maybe it’s just the “m” sound that she finds so hilarious. Either way, it’s pretty cute. I hear “Dadda” about fifty times a day, and I still smile at the sweet sound of it. She says it and means it (we’ve tested), but everything else she says is also some version of “Dadda”–she’ll add syllables, change a “da” to a “doh,” or start with an “ah.” Fae likes to talk. She says “hi Dadda,” although sometimes her “hi” sounds more like “hah,” and she yells things at the cat–in a whole other sort of language, like when you’re so excited that you can’t quite articulate and the sounds spill out before your thoughts can catch up.
She also finds so much amusement in my Mom’s kitchen (her Mem). I can’t fully understand why, but there’s a hanging bell chime that she can’t resist “Ahh-ing” at in a super excited squeal sort of sound. The walls are bright green, which my Mom assumes must be her favorite color, and there’s usually a cat to be spotted in there. And when we walk in she freaks out–in a good way. Strange.
Fae’s laugh is ridiculous. She does laugh in a regular sort of way, but she also has this crazy sound that she makes by laughing inward–while breathing in. It’s really loud and always gets us laughing along with her.
She’s also mastered the art of playing Peek-a-Boo and Hide-and-Seek simultaneously–while in her walker running back and forth behind the couch, or the curtains, or my discarded clothes, or myself.
She doesn’t crawl. And it’s not because I’ve held her a ton, though I have–really, a ton–and used baby carriers, too. She’s just always hated being on her belly. We put her in the position often anyways, but she squirms around whilst trying desperately to reach me, kicking her feet, flailing, and letting her cute little temper overcome her. Yes, it’s still a cute temper because it makes me laugh, for now–I do understand that it won’t stay that way. She doesn’t get mad because she wants to be held. When she’s sitting or lying on her back she’s fine. She just hates being on her belly, with the exception of when she’s on us. That’s very amusing to her. She does manage to crawl on us, but it’s more like climbing. I wonder, do monkeys even crawl–don’t they just walk around on their hands and feet? That’s more like what Fae tries to do, and we think she may skip crawling altogether. She’s so much closer to walking. She’s quite sturdy on her feet and starting to stand on her own for seconds at a time.
Lately I’ve been wondering if she trusts us too much. I certainly don’t mean that as a bad thing. How can a baby have too much trust in their parents? It’s just that she flings herself in the direction that she wants to go. If I walk by Jared as he’s holding Fae, she’ll manage to attach herself to me, on her own. She grasps my hair and grapples me with her limbs–again, like a monkey–and then she’s in my arms, without help. I swear, it’s happened. So, if I’m busy, I have to make sure that I don’t get too close, and Jared holds her tight. But don’t get me wrong, she loves her Daddy. She flings herself at him too, usually after a nursing on the couch, while I’m trying to secure my bra with one hand and hold her with the other–then she always wants Daddy.
I’m proud of my little one, and still soaking it all in. She’s strong, wild, has a great sence of humor and an interesting way of hiding it in public. She’s so much work, but it’s rewarding. She keeps us living in the moment, as it’d be impossible not to. I just love her so unbelievably much.
Fae is freshly woken up from a nap, sitting next to me on our mattress with sweaty spiky hair, playing with her animal book. She’s pointing at things on the page, speaking at them, and smiling at me.