your first words

YOUR FIRST WORDS

August 22, 2025

Car.  
Crow.  
Blue.  
Bus.  
Duck.  
Girl.  
Moon.  
Dog.  
Box.  

Mama.  
Dada.  
Banana — or “nana” when you’re quick about it.  

He even tugged his sock off, handed it to me, and said “sock.”  
Not the clearest, but clear enough.  
He knew what it was, and he wanted me to know he knew.  

And then there’s the airplane.  
Not a word yet,  
but a sound you invented —  
a long engine hum  
you let loose when you hear one overhead  
or even just think you hear one.  

When we’re inside and you hear a plane or helicopter,  
you look to the window,  
sometimes point,  
always wanting to see.  

We thought it was three.  
Then maybe five.  
But it turns out you already keep more than that  
in your mouth and in your mind.  

Everywhere we go,  
you call things out.  

Your first little dictionary,  
already bigger than we thought.  
Even your pediatrician was impressed.  

Once, while we ordered groceries,  
you spotted a banana on the screen,  
pointed, and said “nana” —  
then wanted one right away.  

And in the office,  
a stack of the bigger Candy Lab boxes  
sits waiting on the bookshelf.  
I bought them last holiday as future gifts,  
thinking I’d save them for when you were older.  
But you crawled in, pointed at the stack, and said “car.”  
That was enough.  
The future came closer.  
Now two are yours.  

For 13 months,  
this is rare.  
Someday you’ll know  
you were already ahead of the curve —  
naming the world faster  
than most could follow.