The Fidg at 17 months

Crazy like a Fidg. At Raley Field, July 31, 2011

It's happening.

You're teeth have come in. You know how to walk - to run! You're working on jumping. You dance. You've babbled for ages. But now . . . your words are coming.

"Cat" has been a favorite for several months now. Still your first and best word (though we think maybe the nod should go to "tickle" or "ticka ticka" which you've been using even longer thanks to the book Tickle Tickle).  Cat was joined by:

Banana
Cheese
Shake
Cookies
Carrots
Tickle (or followed this one)
One definite use of "Din-saur" per George pig.
Peppa (Peeeppa) as in pig
Teddy
Brown Bear (ba-beh)

And just this past weekend, a definite, gleeful ownership and application of mama and dada.  Pointing at us, calling the right person the right name. Chasing daddy down the street shouting dada dada dada! You're using your words and trying out more of them.  I couldn't be happier. Mom likes to talk, so she wants you to enjoy it as well.  And there's this lingering fear of whether your birth might have taken any sort of toll on you combined with normal parental worries about normal development.  Words, to me, are a sign that your noggin' is doing its job.

These new language skills, of course, aren't necessarily lowering your frustration at not being able to do things or explain things when you want to. The temper tantrums happen. Frequently. More when you're teething, we think.  And those molars are coming in.  Causing you to nurse more aggressively. Which mommy loves, of course. You swing back and forth between allowing us to change your diaper and actively thwarting all efforts toward cleaning your bottom.  That's fun, we love that. Tons.

It's hard to imagine that by this time next year we'll be having conversations.  More of you will be unlocked to yourself and to us.  Development is a magnificent thing to watch.