Home > Uncategorized > Who’s a Dada? You’re a Dada.

Who’s a Dada? You’re a Dada.


Dada!

This exclamation of excitement has reverberated through the halls of our house this month.  Dada!  Naturally, I am overcome with joy when Connor tears into the room, pulling Jen behind him, shouting “Dada! Dada! Dada!” before speeding over to me and acknowledging that it is I who he was referring to so affectionately as “Dada!”  Unfortunately, everyone else is also Dada, except for Jen who is apparently part-time Dada, part-time Mama.  Connor, however, does know who Dada is.  If you were to ask him, “Where is Dada?”  he would immediately look in my direction, and would probably reach his hand toward me and pronounce, “Dada.”  Still, if you were to point to Jen and ask, “Who is that?” he would again confidently answer, “Dada.”  Which, with my father, inevitably leads to this exchange:

Jen demonstrates how Connor makes noise with his lips, only now he can do it himself.

Connor: (Excited to see him.) Dada!
Pap: Pap!
Connor: Da Da Da Da!
Pap: Pa-pa-pa Pap
Connor: (Looks at him, thinking hard.) Dada.
Pap: Pap.
Connor: Dada.
Pap: Say ‘Pap.’
Connor: (Looks at him confused before going to his signature move–using his fingers to make noises on his lips.)

Oh my gosh!! A doggie!!!!!!!! Aaaaahhh!

Dada is simply his expression of excitement, except when he sees doggies, or his friend Cadence, in which case his display of excitement reaches a level that supercedes that of “Dada!”–a wide-eyed, high-pitched shriek–before being followed by a string of Dadas.  Case in point: as I wrote the last sentence Jen sat down on the couch next to me to open some Christmas cards with Connor.  Connor shrieks right before I hear Jen say, “Look, Connor, a puppy,” as she points to the corner of the envelope sent by Kadi.  Then, she opens up the card to show a white puppy with a Christmas bow around its neck.  Connor begins laughing uncontrollably before shrieking again and grabbing for the card out of Jen’s hand.  We then recreated the event twice–once to get in on the camcorder and again to take stills.  “Yes, Connor, it’s a doggie.”  Connor enthusiastically responds: “Dada!”  “Yes, a doggie. Dog-gie.” Connor thinks: “Da. Da. Da,” he says more slowly, trying to imitate Jen.  “Doggie,” and then, sometimes, Connor is able to more accurately make the “Do” sound, only missing the “g.” 

Though anyone could be Dada, I still maintain that the biggest and best “Dadas!” are reserved for me.  Jen is definitely the person who Connor most prefers, and there are few people who dare hold Connor in the same room as her, myself included.  Even so, when I come home, Jen and I have observed that I receive far more excited, enthusiastic welcomes than Jen does–“Dada! Dada! Dada!”  Apparently, Dada, when matched with its true namesake, is awarded extra zeal, which is good lest any stranger be confused as Connor’s dada.  Yes, it is true that my name is Dada, but if Connor deems you worthy enough, you just might be a “dada” too.

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  1. Jackie
    December 11, 2011 at 8:48 pm

    Thanks for an updated blog!! Reading it and seeing the pictures made my heart very happy!! Mom told me on the phone today that when Connor looked at the tree last night, he kept saying “dada” too. We both agree that he was acknowledging how great you are, that he knows you put the lights on the tree, and how much he loves you! Can’t wait to see you soon!

  2. December 11, 2011 at 11:15 pm

    Actually, Jen put the lights on the tree this year, but I have every other year. haha!

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