Mampa

William says more and more each week, but one of my favorite things is that he still says is "Mampa" (or "Mapa"). He's not quite sure who's name he wants to call, and he might be looking at me but thinking of Mama when he starts calling one of us, so it comes out a little mixed.

Of course, it's usually "Mapa" because Mama is the one he wants to call first. Occasionally it's "Pama" -- once in a while I'll still get first billing -- but it doesn't bother me at all. I'm perfectly okay being one part of the bi-parental unit, as long as I get at least one syllable every once in a while.

Playing Papa

One of my favorite memories of William, from about a year or so ago, when he was not quite two years old, I think.

I was working at Target, and every morning I would get up, get dressed, and put on my glasses, watch, ring, and Target badge. When I came home from work, I had the same things on. I kept them in the little cubby hole next to my side of the bed.

One day, William walks up to me with my over-sized glasses slipping down his nose, my big ring on one of his fingers, or maybe his thumb, my watch dangling off his wrist, and my Target badge in one hand. "Papa!"

Indeed he was the classic example of what Papa looks like every day.