Finding his voice

Little Drew is going to be 6 months old next Tuesday. 6 months! I just had him day before yesterday, didn't I? I know I should be thrilled, but truthfully I'm a little sad at how quickly he's growing up. Already, he's moved into that babbling phase. It sounds like 'raow, raow, raow, raow', and it's a perfectly adaptable phrase for just about any mood the boy is in. Such as:

'Raow raow raow' (with arched eyebrows and wide eyes, holding his play rings), as if to say :
'Behold, what interesting shapes I have here in my hands. I mustn't misplace these. Why look, I have thumbs!'

'Raow raow raow' (with furrowed forehead and glaring at Mike or me, sitting in his booster seat), as if to say:
'HEY! PEOPLE! I'm HUNGRY! Chop chop!'

'Raow raow raow' (rubbing his eye with his little closed fist and yawning), as if to say:
'Oh my goodness, when did it get so late??'

'Raow raow raow' (palm of hand against side of face, crying loudly), as if to say:
'Oh woe is me! No one is paying attention? What is this hellish existence I've been subjected to? What did I... oooh! A bottle!'

I said it with big bro Clay (who's babble was 'keh beh beh?', a phrase we still use to this day), and it's true with Drew. He's got an awful lot to say. I can't wait to hear it. But maybe I can.