You wonder if the third time around it will all still be so amazing.
And you find out it is - all the firsts that had you racing for the camera with your first two kids? Yeah. You run just as fast for #3. The stuff never gets old.
We melted with X's first smile, cheered as he attempted to crawl, went nuts over the first steps.
He reached all his milestones earlier than his siblings. Except for one teensy thing:
X never calls me "Mama."
Dada? No problem. In fact, not only is David "Dada," so is "doggie." X roars like a lion, quacks like a duck, moos like a cow and woofs like a dog on cue. He says "ba" for ball and balloon. Waves and clearly says "hi." He'll say bird. All done. Up.
But throwing a bone to the one who carried him around for 9+ months? Who gets her exhausted rump out of bed at whatever ungodly hour he starts crying in his crib?
Not that it bothered me. At ALL. Or that X's father thinks it's hysterical. In fact, I think, in X's little baby mind, I'm just "That woman with the boobs who magically appears whenever I scream my head off."
So really, did he have any reason to call me by name?
Apparently he didn't think so.
We had just gotten home from a hike with the kids and went up the street to visit with some neighbors. David was holding X on one side of the street and I was on the other. And as I walked back toward them, David shouted, "He called you Mama!"
I couldn't believe it! Finally! I mean, it's not like I've been whispering "mama" in his ear for the past five months, or speaking about myself in the third person to him constantly, or obsessing over whether he would EVER say it. Not at all. Much. Okay, maybe occasionally I might have mentioned my name to him a time or two.
And he did it again later when he was chasing me across the room. Smiled back at my smile. Then there was one more when I was getting him ready for bed.
You have no idea how thrilled I was. How melty I got.
It's the last first time to hear my baby call me Mama.