He Calls Me "Dee-Daw!"
My eyes have been opened by a blond-haired, blue-eyed bucket of babble.
God gave us one of the world’s best first babies. He came out calm and stayed that way even into his terrible twos. Sporting a head full of beautiful blond hair which he never lost, this lad was catching the attention of waitresses and cashiers before his first birthday. Family wanted more email photos than I could produce, and he loved to sit calmly in our laps and watch whatever movie the VCR could produce.
His birth alone changed my life’s outlook more than a job change, marriage, or my own father’s death. Watching him learn to crawl and experiment with textures and temperatures was a joy in my heart on even the darkest days, but when he started talking, all of these emotions took a back seat.
He called me “Dee-Daw.”
I never called my own Dad “Father” – way too formal for my taste. I never buttered up to him and called him “Daddy” either so that he would know I wanted something – way too obvious for our relationship. I had already told my wife I wanted to be called “Dad” just like the name I used for my own Dad. Where our boy came up with Dee-Daw I will never know, but whether it is “Daddy” backwards or an early sign of imaginative brilliance really doesn’t matter to me because that’s our boy; he doesn’t call anyone else that special name.
He calls me “Dee-Daw,” and he wants to sit in Dee-Daw’s chair to watch his collection of movies. He begs Dee-Daw to lay down with him at night and he loves Dee-Daw’s green lawnmower with all of his heart and soul.
Since I’m the first guy I know to have this name, some responsibility comes to this pioneer to set precedents and brings lots of unanswered questions. What will be his earliest memory of Dee-Daw – one that, if he is gets to live a long life, will be in his mind for decades? How will he judge my treatment of him when he gets to be a father? (In other words, what areas of my parenting will he be determined to do better in than I did?) Since actions speak louder than words, what will he think of marriage from my example? In a life where God judges my attention to detail and my willingness to serve, how will he view Dee-Daw when he examines me through the Bible I will teach him to study? He has already matched my fascination with chocolate milk, so what other tendencies of mine will he inherit or learn?
There’s a lot of pressure in this Dee-Daw business. I love to reflect on the “old” days when he and I sat on the porch swing and shot at birds with his pacifier, but now he is breaking away from that symbol of infancy and picking out clothes he prefers. Does that strong will come from me? And regardless, can I be the Dee-Daw I’m supposed to be and teach him to channel that strong will into his spiritual life but out of his treatment of younger siblings?
I’ll miss this vocabulary when it’s gone, but I’m thankful for video cameras and can cherish it for years if I can remember to not record over it. He has other sayings worth note. An aunt in North Carolina kept praising him for opening up her kitchen cabinets and “finding” things; she called him her “big helper.” Sure enough, he learned that he could call himself a “Big Helper!” and get away with almost any mess he made. For the moment, though, I’m most in love with how he hears me come in the door after work, yells out, “Dee-Daw!” and runs up to me – only to ignore me and grab my keys to play with…
God gave us one of the world’s best first babies. He came out calm and stayed that way even into his terrible twos. Sporting a head full of beautiful blond hair which he never lost, this lad was catching the attention of waitresses and cashiers before his first birthday. Family wanted more email photos than I could produce, and he loved to sit calmly in our laps and watch whatever movie the VCR could produce.
His birth alone changed my life’s outlook more than a job change, marriage, or my own father’s death. Watching him learn to crawl and experiment with textures and temperatures was a joy in my heart on even the darkest days, but when he started talking, all of these emotions took a back seat.
He called me “Dee-Daw.”
I never called my own Dad “Father” – way too formal for my taste. I never buttered up to him and called him “Daddy” either so that he would know I wanted something – way too obvious for our relationship. I had already told my wife I wanted to be called “Dad” just like the name I used for my own Dad. Where our boy came up with Dee-Daw I will never know, but whether it is “Daddy” backwards or an early sign of imaginative brilliance really doesn’t matter to me because that’s our boy; he doesn’t call anyone else that special name.
He calls me “Dee-Daw,” and he wants to sit in Dee-Daw’s chair to watch his collection of movies. He begs Dee-Daw to lay down with him at night and he loves Dee-Daw’s green lawnmower with all of his heart and soul.
Since I’m the first guy I know to have this name, some responsibility comes to this pioneer to set precedents and brings lots of unanswered questions. What will be his earliest memory of Dee-Daw – one that, if he is gets to live a long life, will be in his mind for decades? How will he judge my treatment of him when he gets to be a father? (In other words, what areas of my parenting will he be determined to do better in than I did?) Since actions speak louder than words, what will he think of marriage from my example? In a life where God judges my attention to detail and my willingness to serve, how will he view Dee-Daw when he examines me through the Bible I will teach him to study? He has already matched my fascination with chocolate milk, so what other tendencies of mine will he inherit or learn?
There’s a lot of pressure in this Dee-Daw business. I love to reflect on the “old” days when he and I sat on the porch swing and shot at birds with his pacifier, but now he is breaking away from that symbol of infancy and picking out clothes he prefers. Does that strong will come from me? And regardless, can I be the Dee-Daw I’m supposed to be and teach him to channel that strong will into his spiritual life but out of his treatment of younger siblings?
I’ll miss this vocabulary when it’s gone, but I’m thankful for video cameras and can cherish it for years if I can remember to not record over it. He has other sayings worth note. An aunt in North Carolina kept praising him for opening up her kitchen cabinets and “finding” things; she called him her “big helper.” Sure enough, he learned that he could call himself a “Big Helper!” and get away with almost any mess he made. For the moment, though, I’m most in love with how he hears me come in the door after work, yells out, “Dee-Daw!” and runs up to me – only to ignore me and grab my keys to play with…