Blueberries
Baby has vocabulary.
Dada, Momma, Jaja, Nana. He looks at a picture of his great-grandfather as a young man on the boat from Estonia to America and makes the sign for Father. When I am on the phone with my mother he distinctly says “Nana.” Of course he also says “nanna” when offered a banana, but I am convinced it is two different words and he understands the difference.
Ball, blocks, bubbles. His “buh-paw” for “bye-bye” sounds similiar to his “buh-buh” for bubbles, but he waves with one and points with the other. Same thing with blowing kisses and making a sign for food. Close, very close gestures, but clear in context.
The other morning I was feeding him breakfast. Offered eggs. He shakes his head “no.” Applesauce? Lips closed tight. Orange juice? Pushes it away. Cheerios? They go on the floor. Finally I catch on. I say “blueberries?” He turns to face me, eyes wide. Like I said “open seasame” and the mountain split in two. It is like I know magic. “I understand you” I tell him, “We communicate.” he doesn’t try to say it yet, but he will soon.
I fix him a bowl of blueberries and he eats every last one.
