We Have a Talker!

Rory said her first word a few weeks ago, and now has a total of three words in her vocabulary: daddy, doggy, and pula. Pula is the Portuguese word for "jump", and we owe this word to my favorite Brazilian, Xuxa.

It started with the word "daddy", and I'm not going to pretend that I wasn't a little bitter that her first word wasn't "mommy" or "mama". (Those of you who know me would never believe me anyway.) I mean, I'm the one who gave birth to her-without drugs. I'm the one who changes 85% of her diapers, and I'm the one who uses my shirt to wipe her nose when she sneezes at the park (her daddy just looks at her in disgust), but I don't mind that "mommy" wasn't her first word. Or her second, or even her third. Nope, not bitter at all.

So, even though I was a little perturbed that "daddy" was her first word, I quickly got over it...And not because I'm the bigger person (obviously), but because I discovered that it actually benefits me. You see, we Marcos made a reeeaaalllly big deal out of it the first time she said "daddy"(it was quite embarrassing, now that I think about it), so of course now she says it all the time. Everyone and everything is "daddy". So, naturally, when she wakes up at 5 am, the first thing she says is "daddy!". And naturally, Marcos and I both pretend not to hear her talking through the monitor. (It's like a parental version of  the game "chicken".)

"Daaaadddy! DADDY!" 

And this is when I roll over, nudge Marcos awake, and say, "she's calling for you, daddy". Karma is a beautiful thing, my friends.

This picture has nothing to do with her first words...I just think it's hilarious. Talk about perfect toy placement.