I'd like to say I was on the look-out for it, checking carefully at least every week, but really I just happened to notice, and he's probably been doing it for ages. I say, "Where's Lola?" and he looks right at her. (Lola is one of our two dogs.) Where's Dad? Where's Hugo? (the other dog) Where's Mom? He knows. He looks right at us, every time.
Language acquisition is an unbelievably huge accomplishment. It knocks me out that he's busily learning -- not just all the names of all the things, but the largely arbitrary and unutterably complicated structure on which we hang all those names, grammar. And it's not like he's taking a sabbatical from his immersion classes in Fine and Gross Motor Skills. No wonder he's so sleepy and crabby -- baby work is hard.
It's just the first wee step, this clear sign that he knows the names of his most important people. But suddenly I'm so much more aware that there's someone listening when I talk. I haven't stopped cursing or anything like that, but I am consciously trying to pepper my conversation with lots of names and labels and plenty of pointing.
Where's the spoon? Where's the car? Where's the sky?