Today I was working on language with Blake. Now that he can say 'cat' and 'cup' and 'up' and 'yes' and 'deenah' (whatever that is), I figure he should be able to say 'mama.' This is a boy who can flex his terrible claws when we read Where the Wild Things Are; a boy who has memorized all the appropriate gestures and actions in Pat the Bunny for months now. I figure he can handle a little one-syllable action.

I like to have our conversations when I'm changing his diaper, because if I'm thinking about phoneme acquisition I'll actually engage his attention in a meaningful way instead of wrestling his hips to the mat and pleading for just a few more seconds to snap up his shirt. (Andrea gave me that little tip, by the way. It's the "ask politely and reward promptly" method of interaction, which is a lot smoother than the "wonder why the infant isn't obeying vague vocal commands" method. Don't let the r-word bring you down; I reward him by giving him something interesting to hold. It's more distraction than bribery.)

So today we're in the familiar pose. I sense that I'm about to lose his attention and commence the struggle. We begin: "Blake, honey, say mama."

He looked at me seriously. "Ba, ba. Ba."

"No honey. Ma ma. A sheep says ba ba," I respond as I slide the new cloth under his bum. "Ma ma. Ma ma."

Again I get the serious look. I wonder if he's scamming me. "Bum. Bum buh buh. Bum."

No, I do not accept Bum as a name, cute as he is. We're still going to work on this.

As I've been somewhat struggling for content lately (or motivation, really), I've decided to do a meme today. This one's from Daydreaming on Paper: Have you been naughty or nice this year? List 10 pieces of evidence to plead your case.

This year I...

1. Have taken on a great deal of housework in addition to raising the baby.
2. Complain about doing most of the housework.
3. Use cloth diapers that I launder myself, thus greatly reducing the impact of my North American child on the helpless environment.
4. Continue to eat meat and non-organic produce.
5. Made a lot of mommy friends in Toronto.
6. Failed to make friends where I live.
7. Read more novels, important magazines and newspapers than I have in years.
8. Spent way too much time refreshing my "friends" page at LiveJournal.
9. Sent out interesting & personalized birth announcements, thank you cards and Christmas cards in a timely fashion.
10. Let email linger until the Trump of Judgement.
11. Kiss and hug my child, sing to my child, read and tell stories to my child.
12. Grunt at and argue with my husband. Throw hissy fits. Behave badly.
13. Renewed my interest in keeping a journal by throwing my hat into new mommy-themed rings.
14. Failed to write NaNoWriMo novel, Preacher's wedding, or the story I owe Daniel Pinkwater from 2002!
15. Accepted a call to lead the church Sunday School.
16. Mentally critique the abundant cookies and sweets offered to congregation's children, and vow to replace these sugary snacks with boring, tasteless and above all healthy crudités. (Hmmm. Is this a bad thing?)

If you think that I'm uptight about sugar, then we're deadlocked. If you think that it's a bad idea to give youngsters "enough sugar to sandbag a turret" ((c) Ayun Halliday), then I'm NICE.

I don't feel nice. But I'm really tired and maybe I'll get those two Stephen King novels I want if I pretend to believe it.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 12/15/2004 11:20:00 p.m.