Sure. Say Dada first. It’s fine. I only carried you for 40 weeks. Stretched my skin, gained immense weight, and strained my back, knees, and hips to accommodate your growing body. My feet are bigger. My gigantic sagging boobs will never be cute and perky again. I only produce your food and comfort you while nursing. I take care of you all day and cater to your needs. It’s totally fine that Jack’s first words were Dada and BABA. And I’m completely OK with Dada and Jack being Daisy’s first words, too. It’s adorable how much she loves her brother, plus it’s mostly babble anyway. It’s not like after weeks of reinforcing the sounds “Jack” and “Dada” will stick and they really will be your first words. But it’s fine. I’m not bitter. Not at all.
I didn’t fool you? So maybe I’m a little bitter. Why do you both want to day Dada be said before Mama? What’s he do?
Besides worry way more than me. Buy and install baby proofing stuff throughout our house and our families houses. Jump up out of bed much faster than me when you cough in the middle of the night. Tend to every sneeze and ouchie with a hawk-eye. Have the magic touch getting you to fall asleep for naps and at night even when I swear you both bounce off the walls whenever I try to get you to sleep. Invent games to entertain you. Make up silly songs. Show you how to squirt water with your hands in the bathtub. Wave from the ice when he plays hockey. Make you want to be just like him. Be so incredibly patient with all your needs. Never rushing you while you learn.
And help mommy with cleaning and diaper changing. And still tell mommy she’s pretty.
And not once, ever complain.
So fine, I’ll give him this. I can see why you like Dada. He is an alright guy. I shouldn’t be jealous. I still have those quiet moments that are just me and you throughout the day. Anyway, I can’t blame you both. I guess he is pretty great. I understand. I don’t know what I’d do without him, either.
