VivaCity

My dearest sweet baby Julian has some big news to share...Uh oh! That is the news, ladies & gentleman, this is what yon bebe has waited 11 months to share with us. His very first non-word, carved forever in the annals of history, is "uh oh." He's even got the context down pat...The finger pointing at dropped object, the disappointed tone...We are thrilled. Finally, we can hit Stop and Play on his internal transcriber, which has been seemingly stuck in reverse since birth. Shortly hereafter I shall be teaching him the proper use of subjects and predicates. You can't get into Harvard with "uh oh," buddy. Let's get cracking.

Spencer, not to be outdone, piped up with, "I can say uh oh spaghetti-o's." Yes, honey. Yes you can. Sometimes I wish I had more time to devote solely to the baby, as I did when Spence was his age. On the other hand, I often wish I had more time to pay attention just to Spence, as he's had to deal with getting less than he was used to since the beeb's arrival. I try to divide my time evenly between them, and patiently await the day they will play more together, thus simplifying my job immensely. When we can all get down on a game of Chutes & Ladders or put a puzzle together, well...I may even end up having (gasp) time to myself at the end of the day. IMAGINE THAT.

So the Bee has said his first word. Let it be forever cemented in history that he did NOT in fact say, "Dada," a popular choice among the toddler set. I'm still suffering from the arrow Spence shot through my heart when he gazed lovingly at his father, addressed him as Dada, and threw all of my hard work and devotion out the window. I was even changing his diaper at the time, if I recall, and his father was in his custom-fit ass indentation on the couch. The nerve of that baby. Some day I'll forgive him. Some day when my heart heals.

Good-bye, gibberish, good-bye, formula, good-bye, jarred food, good-bye my baby. Hello my son.