Isaac loooooooves dogs. Loooooooooves them. He loves Dozer, my BIL's dog. He loves any dog, anytime, anywhere. And for the longest time, he would call them "Pup-as" because he couldn't really say "puppy." We all knew what he meant. He would scream it in delight whenever a dog was in sight or even when he heard barking. He thought the sea lions at Pier 39 were "pup-as" because they were barking (insert science lesson from Mommy here). He can pick them out on TV and plastic ones in the store, photos in books, drawings. He loves the "pup-as."
Last weekend, I heard something that made me very proud and broke my heart at the same time.
Somewhere, some time, my son had learned to say "Puppy." Gone are the days of "pup-as." We are strictly a "Pup-pee" family now. Like I said, I am very proud of him, and the progess he is making in his development and learning. But at the same time, I cling to these relics that make him my little baby, and uniquely him.
When he stops calling Mickey Mouse "Ma-Mo" I think I will cry for days. Seriously, he knows how to say "Day-zee," "Goo-fee," "Meeen-eee," "Down-ol," and "Plew-tooo." So I know my days are limited, and I am busting out the video camera every single chance I get to record these precious moments.
Sometimes I think he still says "Ma Mo" because he knows we love it, kinda like kids saying they still believe in Santa Claus to humor their parents (or to mooch extra gifts for a few years). It works, because Isaac is swimming in Mickey paraphenalia and is going to Disneyland for Christmas.
Ah, my sweet baby boy. Can't you stay itty bitty a few days more? Why must you grow up so quickly?