"Arahdah"

I don't know what it means, I'm not even sure how it started; but, all I know is that when anyone says "Arahdah" to Livija, she goes ballistic. It's like some secret code word that signifies we get what's going on her world. Her face lights up, she giggles in delight, and kicks her feet out like she's in the middle of an Olympic dive. Or maybe, it's that "Arahdah" actually means "My face looks like a horses butt" in Baby Dialect and she's hilarious over the fact that we have no idea what the hell we're saying. I'm guessing it's the latter.

Other words in the laughter arsenal are: "Arrrrr" (like a pirate would say), and "Agah." Of course, this makes me feel guilty that I'm encouraging the use of imaginary words and I torture myself with images of a child months from now who runs around in public saying "Arrrrrr" and "Arahdah" to perfect strangers. While other kids are blurting out "Dog," "Mama," and "Bye!" my child will speak like an Ewok.

It also doesn't help that my husband and I have developed the odd habit of doubling every word we say to Livija. For example: "There's the dog, dog!" "Livija, can you dance, dance?" What is that all about? I'm worried that I'm going to start going to Dunkin Donuts and asking for "Coffee, coffee".

That's the funny thing about having a baby - the parents experience degenerative speaking capabilities, and the children somehow flourish at lightning speed. I think there might be some kind of mind vacuum that's being hooked up to us at night. While Piyum and I sleep, Livija is busy attaching a tube to our brains that extracts all of our intelligence and implants it in her tiny cranium. We wake up in the morning amazed that she has reached some new developmental milestone, and all the while he haven't even noticed that our underwear is on backwards and that we are heating up orange juice in the microwave.

Funny thing is, I don't mind if I'm calling myself a horses butt. If it makes her laugh, I suppose that's all that really matters.