I speak much on the tiny Keeper of My Heart...Woog, taking for granted (verbally anyway) the bigger Keeper and co-creator of above referenced heart-melter- Big Daddy.
It's kinda humorous, when I started calling him that (before Woog was born), it was in response to the kind of father I suspected he'd become- I suppose I could have called him Supreme Daddy or Totally Rad Daddy, even What-the-Hell-Would-I-Do-Without-You Daddy... but Big seemed appropriate. I was right (usually am) :)- he lives up to his title and I'm not the only one that thinks so. BD, as he is often referred to, has sorta become his nickname. Does he love it? Ehhh. But to me, it's endearing that others see him as The Big Daddy too. (sidenote: I DO NOT WANT TO BE BIG MAMA, k?) I'm struggling, currently, with the fact that I have moved up yet another bra size. We're talking elephantitis of the chest area... so NO referrences to larger anything. mkthanks.
And what a Big Daddy... a testament to how far he's come- BD has ALWAYS had an aversion to puke, like ostriching his head under a pillow in the furtherest corner of the house until the retching stops...now, he catches it in his hands whilest offering soothing words of solace. Pre-baby, a startling jostle in the wee moring hours would have created a grumpy bed-headed slit-eyed grunter. Now, he has a 2 second response time...DING, and off to plug in a bottle or ninny or rock or change a diaper or catch puke.
It's my good fortune to have a Big Daddy... I knew it a LONG time ago. (flashbacking: we were so young and so thin...nearly a decade and a half ago).
Thanks BD :) Chesty Mama heart you.
No comments:
Post a Comment