Names For The People We Love - Fathers Day 2011

My "Boo Boo"

As my boys have grown, their desire, like most children, to be "big" has started to show.  A defining moment for Drew as he became potty trained was to wear "big boy" underpants, and he was a "big boy" for using the potty.  Even Sean got in on this as he was younger and not yet potty trained would say "I'm little, I use diapers."

Sean has now been potty trained for nearly 4 months and it is a bad thing to tell him that he is a little guy, or one of his old terms of endearment "baby bear" to which he would reply, "I'm a big boy, not a baby."  Sean and Drew are insistent now that they are "Big" and Eva is a "baby".  Given Eva has yet to really formulate any displeasure in hearing that, I just roll with it.

My kids all have their terms of endearment I have given them.  Drew is Booga Bear, Booga or Roo Roo.   Sean was Baby Bear, Awny, or Sean Sean.  Eva is now Baby Bear, Boo Boo, Mamita, or Evita.  My kids all respond with usual warm responses, and I think deep down they can feel the love I have for them in the names they only hear from my wife and I.  Likewise I adore hearing, Daddy, Dada and Dad, but my kids have yet to adopt any real name or names for my wife and I.

Pop, was something I heard from a good friend as I lived with his family for a few summers.  After hearing it week after week I decided it was a name that I wanted for my dad.  So in my second or third year of college I began calling my dad "Pop."  After he heard this for a few weeks, my dad, while walking with me to get breakfast, explained that "Pops" is a disrespectful way kids used to make fun of adults like calling them an old fogey."  I told my dad it was my attempt at a term of endearment, and disrespect was the farthest thing from my thought process, he said he thought so and understood, but I think in his gut he wasn't sold on the name.  I think I occasionally use it, but I find with my kids around I call him Grandpa, or Grandpa Ted a lot more.

When I get home in the morning from a long night at work, I walk in the door and am serenaded with Daddy, Dada, and Dad from the kids.  My daughter has shown a wonderful attachment to me and she runs with extra gusto as I get home and I adore hearing her "Dada! Dada! Dada!"  As I hear her pitter patter across the house as she makes her way to me.  One morning a few weeks ago she stood off in the living room or dining room and I could hear her making a bee line towards me as I hung my keys up, her brothers were already giving me hugs, but she made her best Walter Payton impression and stiff armed Sean to the ground and she ran to me and asked "Up?!"

This reception warms my heart, and my longing to hear the chorus of welcomes never falters.  Just the other day my son Drew gave me my first term of endearment.  I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed, he had just woken up and I was about to lay down.  I picked up the "Roo Roo" and went to my bed to cuddle with him for a few minutes before I went to sleep.  I talked with him about his night and he asked me about my work.  I rubbed his back and told him I loved him, he lay so still as I had a quiet moment with my boy, I gave him a big hug and told him I loved him and said "You are my big boy", he closed his eyes tight as I hugged him and said "you are my Big Daddy."

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