When Hugh was around seven or eight months old he started babbling "da da da" which was awesome. I knew it was for me, but eventually he started saying "ma ma ma" to his mom and just about everything else. Including me. Simply being recognized by your own young child is a great moment, but being called "mom" doesn't feel masculine. It falls somewhere between being unable to open the pickle jar and staring at a car engine wondering if that's the way it's supposed to look.
A tip I learned from a veteran father of three is that parents need to call each other "mommy" and "daddy." That's some good advice, because Hugh picked up on mommy calling me "Clay" around the house. Yep, my son calls me by my first name. Sometimes he hears me as I'm leaving in the morning and I can hear from his room, "Clay? Claaaaaayyyyy" and that's how he greets me when I come home. It's sweet, and sure beats mom!
It probably shouldn't last forever though. Some things just won't sound as cute. Like, "Clay, I wrecked the car," or, "I ate all the food in the fridge again, Clay." We'll slowly work our way to dad or daddy, but for now, at least I know who he's talking to. Even gives me some incentive to learn what an engine should look like : )
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