As much as I thought Chase was a mama’s boy, he’s not…or at least not yet. If my husband and I were standing side-by-side waiting for a hug from Chase, I would lose. If Dada is anywhere in sight, Mama is chopped liver. Dada was his first word, and he screams it from the top of his lungs. He finally started saying “mamamama”…but it’s usually just an utterance like ababa or blowing raspberries. Sometimes I think “Wasn’t I the one that carried him for nine months and then breastfed him for seven? Shouldn’t I be his favorite?” Welllllll not exactly. But it’s all good. I know kids go through phases of liking different parents more than the other.
Seeing this father-son relationship develop so early is such a beautiful thing. There are many little boys in this world who don’t grow up with a father. Many who don’t know what it’s like to have a male role model in their life. Many who don’t get to have that special bond with the man who will teach him how to become one. For that, I don’t mind taking the #2 spot.