2nd Place Is The 1st Loser

Friday night Tyler did the thing that makes all the poopy diapers, all the late nights, all the screams and tears from teething, and any other hair-pulling mother-son moments I may have forgotten seem worthwhile; he said MaMa!!!! I swear my heart swelled at least 3 sizes. Actually I shrieked so loudly that Joe heard me at the neighbors... from our kitchen.

Now, I realize that the above statement sounds like Tyler is a bad kid. In fact, he's not. It's just that I've had the green eyes of envy equipped with the horns and fangs for the last several weeks. 62 days, to be exact. See, Tyler, like most kids, decided that "dada" was going to be his first word. He's been "dadadadadada"ing everything in sight since that fateful day in March. Da has now warped into "dat" when he points at something, wanting it's name, it's function, it's color, or any other bit of knowledge you want to impart. All this, before he graced me with my (well-deserving) "mama" recognition. Can you blame me for my jealousy?

Yesterday, Tyler attempted crawling up my leg while saying "mum mum ma". Awh. He wanted me. He needed me. He wanted me to pick him up. How could I deny that? I couldn't. I HAD to stop fixing his lunch and pick him up, just so I could bathe in that one glorious moment.

I'm not stupid. At some point I know I will long for the silence before Tyler's first mama, ala Stewie and Lois, but for now, I'm loving every single "mama" I get.