Christmas! Language! Raisins! Parties!
We haven't posted for the last couple of weeks, but it hasn't been for lack of eventful happenings.
First, we went to Atlanta for James's first Christmas. He had a wonderful time with everyone; we felt particularly bad about tearing him away from my mom at the end of the visit. (He even learned to say her name, "Mima." Now he keeps looking around corners to see if she's there.)
On a related note, he's decided that he's in favor of language. We realized just how much conversation he was processing while in Atlanta -- on Christmas morning, he was playing near the fireplace, and my grandmother kept saying "Hot!" to him to warn him away from the fire. His reaction to this (raised eyebrows and a startled expression) was so cute that she kept saying "Hot!" to him for the next couple of hours...including when things were not in fact hot. After a couple of non-hot Hots!, James started giving Gug a look that read, "Lady, you clearly have no idea what you're talking about."
His own speech has also become more varied and complex -- in the past few weeks, he's gone from saying "Mama" and "Dada" (and a few other words) to busting out with new expressions and combinations of words. He'll now say, "Mamama! Mamama! Mo [more] up, Mamama!" and reliably asks to nurse using our word for it.
One thing he reliably asks for more of is raisins. I myself have a checkered history with raisins, but I loved them as a little kid and happened to buy some for him when I was at the store recently. I handed him a couple and turned to finish unpacking the groceries. Within minutes he was singing a little song: "Mo, mo, mo, mo, mo." When I failed to get it he started singing louder -- then shouted. Belatedly I realized he had raisins on his mind. We're now looking into appropriate limits on raisin consumption.
The other source of excitement in recent days was New Year's. We thought we'd need to put James down for the night partway through the New Year's party. Shame on us. He partied down until shortly after midnight, and woke up at 10 the next morning looking debauched, despite having had only milk to drink the night before.
First, we went to Atlanta for James's first Christmas. He had a wonderful time with everyone; we felt particularly bad about tearing him away from my mom at the end of the visit. (He even learned to say her name, "Mima." Now he keeps looking around corners to see if she's there.)
On a related note, he's decided that he's in favor of language. We realized just how much conversation he was processing while in Atlanta -- on Christmas morning, he was playing near the fireplace, and my grandmother kept saying "Hot!" to him to warn him away from the fire. His reaction to this (raised eyebrows and a startled expression) was so cute that she kept saying "Hot!" to him for the next couple of hours...including when things were not in fact hot. After a couple of non-hot Hots!, James started giving Gug a look that read, "Lady, you clearly have no idea what you're talking about."
His own speech has also become more varied and complex -- in the past few weeks, he's gone from saying "Mama" and "Dada" (and a few other words) to busting out with new expressions and combinations of words. He'll now say, "Mamama! Mamama! Mo [more] up, Mamama!" and reliably asks to nurse using our word for it.
One thing he reliably asks for more of is raisins. I myself have a checkered history with raisins, but I loved them as a little kid and happened to buy some for him when I was at the store recently. I handed him a couple and turned to finish unpacking the groceries. Within minutes he was singing a little song: "Mo, mo, mo, mo, mo." When I failed to get it he started singing louder -- then shouted. Belatedly I realized he had raisins on his mind. We're now looking into appropriate limits on raisin consumption.
The other source of excitement in recent days was New Year's. We thought we'd need to put James down for the night partway through the New Year's party. Shame on us. He partied down until shortly after midnight, and woke up at 10 the next morning looking debauched, despite having had only milk to drink the night before.
posted by Ridley at
12:34 PM
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