No dada...

While Elise makes a variety of sounds, of course her favorite is "da." I repeatedly tell her that there is no Da, but she does not care much what I have to say. Obviously she doesn't mean anything by it, but no matter what sound she starts out with (mamamayayayazazaza), it always becomes dadada.

Sometimes, she will just repeat it to herself while she's playing. Occasionally, she will grab my neck and lean in close and whisper "da" so seriously that I can only imagine she thinks she is telling me some grand secret. Maybe she's trying to divulge whatever mystical meaning of life we are all born knowing and forget by the time we can think to tell anyone about it.

I think she does get that words and sounds have meanings. When she is upset, she now repeats mamamamamama. And she's starting to understand words. She knows what her cup is. She grabs for the light switch when I tell her to turn off the light. She knows a book is a book. I think she's even starting to understand inflection and tone of voice. We play a game where she picks up a toy and I tell her what it is, and sometimes if I don't tell her right away she'll say "da?"

I guess one day, I'll have to explain why there really is no Dadada. But I'm not so worried about that. She has two parents who love her as much as anyone ever loved a kid. We wanted her and deliberately went about making her. She is both lucky and unfortunate enough to be growing up in this weird and crazy family. She's the first grandchild on either side, and so she will always be the golden child.

For now, I'll just wait and listen to everything until one day dadada becomes ball or duck or mommy or #*^%. I can't wait to hear what she has to say.

Before I had Elise, I kind of thought that if I had somehow gotten pregnant very young (not sure how that was gonna happen, but that's another story) that I would have been okay. I never thought it would be easy, but I always had this idea in my head that I would handle it better than most people. Looking back, I still do think that I would have been okay, but I can't imagine what my life would be like right now. I don't think I would be the same person I am now.

You know how sometimes they update the dictionary and add new meanings to old words so that over time the original definition gets bumped down to the bottom of the list? Each new definition builds on the last, but eventually the original is almost forgotten. I think people are like that. We redefine ourselves over the years. At our core, our first meaning is still there, but the other ones become more prominent. I think this redefinition is important. And when something happens to force an update before it's really ready, it can be tough to ever move on from what we used to be.

It was harder than I thought it would be to become "Mommy." I don't mean to conceive and give birth, but to take on this role that I always thought I was totally ready for. It was rough to let go of how I had thought of myself for so long. I could do what I wanted and go where I wanted and suddenly there were so many things I had to think of and do and juggle just to go to the grocery store or gas up the car or go to the doctor. My time, my life, suddenly belonged to somebody else in a way that I never imagined. I did everything I could do to physically prepare for Elise's arrival. I bought all the items and got her room ready and installed the car seat. But I'm not sure this is something that you can prepare for emotionally. I have spent years caring for other people's children, but at the end of the day I could go home. Now I can't imagine it any other way, but I have to admit I went through a time where I resented the fact that I couldn't even take a shower without figuring out what I was going to do with Elise.  But that passed quickly and now I miss her all the time I'm not with her. It feels wrong to be anywhere without her. I have fallen into the role as well as I could have hoped for. I have redefined myself. I am Elise's Mommy.