i’ve faced the fact that henry is going to learn words with some trepidation. oh, sure, i know it’s cute when those little pint-sized packets of energy start saying things like “dog” and “snack” and “juice,” but that’s not why i’m afraid. first words aren’t just first words. kids echo their parents: packing into tiny, high pitched voices a summation of their parent’s character.

so i’ve been a little bit wary, not exactly wanting this two or three syllable look into my soul. i mean, what if he said “no” or “shopping” or “fat”?

a couple of days ago henry burst through his bubble of garble. we walked into babies-r-us (looking for a new car seat) and henry spotted a giant winnie-the-pooh. (for those of you who haven’t met henry, you should know that he is absolutely crazy about stuffed animals. he likes to bite their noses.) anyway, he spotted this winnie-the-pooh from the doorway and said, “oh, wow.”

now, if that had been the only instance, i wouldn’t be calling them first words, but later on in the day he was strapped in his high chair and i was feeding him mashed turkey… (yum) he got sort of a funny look on his face and then puked everywhere. he looked down at the soupy mess on his tray and said, “oh, wow.”

a little later on he discovered some of my kitchen cupboards unlocked. (i usually tie these shut — i can only imagine what would happen if he got his hands on bottles of red wine vinegar and olive oil.) he threw both the doors open and stood looking in. he turned at me with a huge grin. “oh, wow,” he said.

and then this morning we were reading a favorite book, g is for goat,  and he pointed down at the picture, “goat,” he said. “goat, goat, goat.”

there you have it. the essence of my being in three words. “oh, wow, goat.”

i have looked into the depths of my soul and i am not afraid.