Who's Your Daddy

As Edwin was getting ready to leave for work yesterday morning, Vincent and I were laying in bed having an in-depth discussion about the pros and cons of spit-up versus vomit. Just then, Edwin came near the bed and said "Hi, Peanut!".

For the first time ever - Vincent proceeded to wobble his head towards Daddy's voice and stared at his buttoned shirt. He then gave him the biggest toothless grin he could muster. Edwin and I giggled with pride at his accomplishment of recognizing Daddy's voice and giving him his first true smile. Since then, I've been doing cartwheels and making fart noises to try and get a smile for Mommy. As of yet, I'm still seen as the "other" one that carries food in her boobs and is there between daily naps.

This morning Vincent had brunch on the couch while I caught up on my Headline News. After he was done, he stared at me, raised his tiny arm in the air, and with a stern look of "what the hell is that?" realized the arm went all the way down to his body - it was attached! Oh my word! Were you aware of this, Mommy? Then the ceiling fan caught his attention - he has since forgotten about this triumphant discovery.

Vincent has become more alert and awake, and it has been a learning experience for Mommy. I feel like I've graduated to: The Art of When to Panic at Baby Language and Coping Skills - Part II. He has many different cries - but they still seem to sound the same for the first few minutes. I feel like a hunting dog at times - my head cocks to the side and my ears perk up every time I hear a noise, "Was that?... no.. poopy? no,...hungry?...maybe...binky?...let's try..." And I feel like a champion when I get it right (even if I went through every option to get the answer).