Uff-da.

Ruby’s new word – you know how that goes. She picks a word and says it. A lot. Every time she gets even close to in-context, out it comes. This week, it’s “uff'-da”.

And I love it. Because it’s evidence of where I come from and it’s proximity to a whole lot of Norwegians… and the tiny bit that runs in my blood stream and therefore Ruby’s.

Or maybe it’s just evidence that she spends way too much time with me.

Either way, I’m cool with it. And I’m hoping it replaces the “Yeah, but…” that she is also currently stuck on. Because ‘uff-da' is way funnier to hear coming from a 3-days away from 3 years old baby girl.

And that story warrants this one:

Charlotte came fast at the end. I went from 5cm and begging for an epidural to 10cm, ‘baby’s crowning; get away from my back so I can birth this child’ in 20 minutes. It was intense and a lot unbelievable. As the doctor – who got into the delivery room in time to deliver the 2nd half of Charlotte – introduced herself to me, congratulated me, and walked out of the room, apparently, I said “Uff-da”. The situation certainly warranted that – and a lot more. But Blaine burst out laughing, said he’d never heard me say that before, and told me that every once in a while my background – and it being so very different than his East coast upbringing – shines through.

But, whether Blaine has heard me say it before or since then or not, it would seem I say it often enough for Ruby to pick it up as her new favorite word-phrase.

Uff-da.