The good news from this neck of the woods is that L made her first intelligible sound this week. The bad news is that it was “Mamamamama,” and not “Dadadadada.”

I know, I know, the fact that she’s saying Mamama to everything doesn’t necessarily mean that her first word will be “Momma.” What’s more, I know I should be happy that L has moved one step away from unintelligible blather and one step closer to coherent speech.

Heck, I should even be happy for Powergirl; our baby says something that sounds like her name.

Still, I can’t help but take this personally. I’ve read that many babies can make D sounds before M’s; why doesn’t ours? Also: Why does she insist on continuing to say “Mamama,” even though I’ve been trying to coach her in the other direction?

Is it something I’ve said? Is it something I’ve done? Is she simply starting those teen-age years of torment a little early?

Whatever the reason, three months from now, when L recites the Gettysburg Address on Lincoln’s Birthday, we’ll all laugh at this. Until then, I need to remember that this talking thing is about her and not me.