I wanted to capture O's first few precious utterances. Not at all the same words as Matilda, apart from the obvious Papa, Maman, and, hilariously, doudou. Matilda's doudou looms so large in our petite famille that O has learnt to say doudou before learning to say Matilda. If you ask him to say a word he doesn't know, he says nana. Although I assure you he can say shoes. Stubborn little buggerhooter. If you're wondering why he keeps looking down, he was trying to read a book. If you're wondering why he keeps sticking his tongue out to say banana, your guess is as good as mine.
Much as I am excited that O is starting to whet his mouth in the bottomless well of joy that is language I do love the stage we are just leaving. The post-creature, pre-verbal stage of huge understanding but no words to communicate that understanding. It's a bit like a foreign language, when you can follow everything that is going on but can't dredge up enough from your own memory to join in. I can tell O understands a lot of what we are saying. He follows simple instructions, he listens to stories, he can match pictures to words, he reacts with happiness or sadness when informed of things that make him happpy (Nana is coming today) or sad (Nana is not coming today). Somehow this mode of communication, which relies a lot still on the gestures and intonation which accompany the words, is endearingly direct, and intimate. It exists only between O and his very nearest and dearest. We understand him because he has learnt to negotiate his life through us. Once he can speak he will be able to communicate with the world at large, which is grand. I hope people will listen and that he will listen to and appreciate all the wonderful things people say to him.
I am not one to dwell on the past or to regret what has gone. I like development and change but I wanted to set down in blog how much I have enjoyed having my special little mind merge with my special little O. And of course my special little M before him.