Fourth word

As soon as Craig walked in the door on Wednesday, Isaac smiled at him and said, "Da-da."

I was impressed that Isaac even remembered who his father was, frankly -- Craig had been gone for eight days! -- but I guess I didn't have a good enough appreciation of a one-year-old's long-term memory.

You may recall that two months ago Isaac had said something that resembled "Da-da" when faced with a photograph of his father, but it was inconsistent enough that I deemed it a "fake word." Well, it's fake no longer! Although he has been playing with variations over the last few days -- he also says just "Da," or "Da-da-da," and sometimes "Da-dee" -- his intentions are clear. And although we have been saying "Dad," I suppose Izzy gets to choose what he wants to call his father. After all, now he can voice his own thoughts on the matter.

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And his fifth word, rather disappointingly, is "ball." Who knew he cared enough about a ball to honor it with speech? He hardly ever plays with one. Maybe it's just easy to articulate? So far he has used the word just a few times: to point out the dog's squeaky ball (an attractive plaything forbidden to Isaac) as well as the wooden balls on the Hang-It-All in his room.

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He has mastered his second word, "Mama," by the way. He says it all the time, his voice full of wonder and affection, and I am thrilled by it every time. I hear that he even asks for me by name when I'm not there. Most sweetly, sometimes when he's nursing he'll suddenly stop, lift his head to look into my eyes, and exclaim in delight, "Mama!" Then he'll sit up and hug me around the neck, nuzzling against my face. It's as if we had been separated and he had missed me. It's as if nursing just didn't get him close enough to me. It's just so lovely.