Six months ago, Terry and I thought we were really lucky that Nate didn’t whine when other people held him or when we dropped him off at the church daycare on Sundays. Most 10 month olds seemed to have separation anxiety and we weren’t having to deal with that. Nate was pretty much happy in anyone’s arms. Score!
When Nate was 13 months old, we went to the beach with my family. He spent a lot of time with Daddy because the pool was cold and the ocean had mountains of seaweed (gross), and quite frankly, I needed a little vacation from my job, too. Nate started saying “Daddy” instead of “Dada” shortly thereafter, which was adorable. He was thrilled when Terry got home from work and loved playing with him. I thought it was great. I got a break and Nate was happy. Everybody wins, except for maybe Terry, but he doesn’t really count.
A month or so later, I noticed Nate wasn’t saying “Mama” anymore and he called EVERYTHING “Daddy”. We go eat lunch with Terry about once a week, so now every time we stop to run an errand, Nate thinks we’re going to eat lunch with Daddy and says his name about 10 times. I ate lunch with some friends last week and Nate gave one of them the death stare most of the ride there, probably because she wasn’t his Daddy.
Anytime Terry is holding Nate and I try to take him, he cries. Anytime I pick Nate up because he’s crying, he reaches for Terry. Every morning when Terry leaves for work, I have to distract Nate in a different room or deal with a screaming baby for 10 minutes or so because he gets so upset that Daddy would abandon him with this horrible woman. Every time the garage door opens, Nate runs over to the door, incessantly says “Daddy” and waits for it to open (or sometimes starts crying if I don’t open it for him). When Nate wakes up from his nap, I hear a little voice over the monitor saying, “Daddy!” Basically, Nate hates me and loves Terry.
Don’t get me wrong, I love that Nate loves his Daddy, especially early in the morning. 🙂 But, every picture I try to take with Nate, he’s crying and squirming to get back in Terry’s arms. Nate’s going to wonder where I was all of his childhood since I’m usually the one taking pictures and he isn’t happy being held by me when I do try to sneak in one. So everyday, I say “Mama” and “Mommy” about a thousand times hoping he’ll eventually catch on. But, I’m usually still called “Daddy” (more like “where is he?!?” and less as a term of endearment) whether I’m changing his diaper, reading him books, or feeding him lunch.
If you see me and I’m around Nate, you need to call me Mommy, not Sara, sugar lips, or hot stuff, or I won’t talk to you anymore. The other morning, the three of us were hanging out on our king bed like we often do, and Nate actually said “Mama”! Then I squealed, tackled him with a hug and probably scared him out of ever saying it again.