Dialogue

Every morning, my son wakes me up to have a dialogue.  Yes, a dialogue.  A two way conversation.   I try to remember if he woke me up from sleeping (if I slept at all) or from one of my shut-eye wanderings.

He never ran out of things to talk about.  We talk about his plans for the day, how I was, how good he slept.  These days, we even talk about the ongoing presidential primaries.  Why me and his Dad are for McCain and why not for Obama.

There's the topic of breakfast too.  And again, he'll bring up how much he likes his little aquarium.  Not the real one though, just the one you plug in and the fishes move around in a little cone.  The artists who made it did a good job, for they sure look real to both of us.  Except you don't see the bubbles go up.

My mornings aren't the same without our dialogues.   He reminds me to always try and stay sharp,  so we can have more meaningful conversations.  He looks forward to it as much as I do. I can tell, especially when he swings his chubby little legs up in the air and reach out to touch my face or grab strands of my hair.

His vocabulary is growing fast too.  On top of the oohs, aahs, nehs, ehs, aws, there are now the meme, nene, eees and all sorts of chuckling and mumbling.  Often I hear people say 'how cute his little sounds are'.  Sounds, they make it seem like he's an ipod or a little machine making 'sounds'.

I call it 'talking'.  He is talking and those are his words, his own unique jargons and phrases.  And every morning, he spends quality time with me to have a dialogue.

Oh, did I mention he's fifty six weeks old.  That's adding up forty weeks inside my womb and sixteen from the time he was born.

I don't 'baby talk' to him much, but I blow bubbles in his tummy and rosy cheeks a lot.