I know that I'm supposed to jump for joy when my baby utters his first word--"Dada" or "Mama" or "Awesome!" or whatever it happens to be...and I'm sure that I will; but part of me will miss his mute expressiveness--his ability to say such a variety of things with such a small repertoire of gestures and vocalizations. The way that he holds something to me (a recent behavior) and smiles gently when I take it in my hands--the pleasure he's starting to take in sharing things with me. The knowing giggle he emits when I do something silly, like put his pajama pants on my head. The peremptory, forceful protest he delivers, a loud "HuuUUUH! when I'm not doing things quickly enough to suit him. Yes, even the occasional piercing shriek he utters when excited. It's not that I'll miss the shriek; I'll miss the feeling he conveys that he's bursting with excitement to express--something.
I'll miss this time; but I know that even when he speaks, part of this phase of his life will endure--both in his memory and in my own. We'll look at each other and say things without even saying them.
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