I was reading somewhere last week that research shows that between 6 and 12 months, a kid can learn hundreds of words, even though they're not yet able to talk themselves.
So though it was tempting to take a victory lap because K2's first words were "dada," before I could even get my shoes on, it was obvious that she wasn't talking about me. Everything was dada. Her sister was dadada. The remote control? Dadadadada. [We recently called her first word, though, "baba," when she made repeated reaches for a book as she was saying it. Not sure what we would have done if it had been, "momo" for the remote.]
But it's not like K2 has any difficulty making herself known. When she wants to go out, she'll crawl across a room and pull down a shelf of clothes to get her striped sweater, then she'll march it back for you to put it on. [True, she could be trying to tell us to turn the heat up, but still, fairly advanced, right?]
Last night at dinner, we were having Lebanese from the place up the street. And K2 was contentedly eating her pita, until my wife took the foil off the plate of kibbeh. She'd never had one before, but at that moment, K2 became a kibbeh fanatic. She swept the pita pieces off her plate and shouted at the top of her lungs until my wife gave her a bite of kibbeh.
But that only fueled the fire. K2 wouldn't rest until she got a whole kibbeh of her own. Kibbeh are about the size of an egg, and the inside is full of seasoned ground beef. With the crusty end eaten off K2's little dumpling became, an edible Cup O'Meat, a topless meat maraca. Sure enough, she gave that hard-won meat trophy a couple of excited shakes, and sent the contents flying everywhere.