Convo

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but about 3 hours after Luca was born, Diana announced that we were not having any more children. It didn’t matter who got snipped but someone was getting sterilized.

So with each milestone, I lament the “we’ll never see this again-ness.”

Lately, I’ve been lamenting Luca’s exponential command of the language. With every new word, with every new communication, I miss that time where we had no idea what the heck he wanted.

It was less than three months ago that he’d grunt and cry and I’d think, “WHAT? WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT?” But now, he can ask for stuff by name. I guess that’s ok if you want your child to, you know, develop as a human being. But what about those of us who want our sons to remain frozen in time as 1 year olds forever?

The only solace is the intense cuteness of everything that little person says. As an illustration, allow me to recount every single morning for the last two weeks.

It usually begins with Elijah stomping into our room at 6:30am. “Luca is making too much noiiiiiise!” At which point he unceremoniously kicks me out of bed so he can sleep with his mother (Oedipus would approve).

After I warm up some milk, I walk into the boys’ room and our exact conversation goes as follows:

(Luca) “Hi!!!!!!”
(Me) “Hiiiiii!”
(Luca) “Uppie uppie?”
(Me) “Uppie Uppie!”
(Luca) “Ba ba?”
(Me) “Ba ba!”

Then we sit in the dark and enjoy a bottle. Until I cannot bear the smell of his diaper anymore.

(Me) “Diaper?”
(Luca) “Perper.”
(Me) “Diaper?”
(Luca) “Perper.”

Usually by now Grover has padded into the room.

(Luca) “Go go!”
(Me) “Go go!”
(Luca) “Go go!”
(Me) “Go go!”
(Luca) “Go go!”

This goes on until Grover gets disgusted with and leaves. And this is usually the most intelligent conversation of my day.

p.s. What kind of mother does this to a child?