We were at a local playground when another toddler, after hearing O holler down at me from the top of the slide, realized it’s a fun word to say and took her own turns running up and yelling Baa-ba! at me.
Even at this young age children don’t call their friends’ parents “mom” or “dad” but for some reason they love to call me Baba. Maybe because it’s a new word for them or maybe because I’m this strange mom-dad hybrid that feels both safe and adventurous. Whatever the reason, it always strikes me when another child calls me by my “parent name”. Kids who know us realize that my particular breed has an owner and refer to me as “O’s Baba”. Others overhear it on the playground and yell it into the wind like a battle cry. Whatever the reason, it’s pretty amusing and sometimes downright sweet. Even as other children pick it up, I like that I’m “O’s Baba”. He knows he’s got one and I’m his and that’s good enough for me.