About a month ago Kate figured out that my name is Kevin. And she started using it. She hears everyone call me by my name and she's very observant, so it just seemed like the right thing to do, I guess. She knew there was something questionable about it, though, because she'd give a sly little smile when she said it.
When she first started saying Kevin, it came out "Kev-y." It was cute, and funny, but as an adoptive parent, it was weirder than if she were my biological daughter! Think about it.
Over the past few days, she's progressed with my name. When she wants me to follow her, she says, "Mon (Come on), Ke-Fin!" She still thinks it's funny, and she calls me "Daddy" 90% of the time, so I'm just enjoying this as one of those things that will all too quickly fade away.
I'm trying to appreciate these little things, and each day I wonder, "Will she ever do that again?" Babies become toddlers and toddlers become little kids SO QUICKLY, and their progression is A DAILY THING, so we better enjoy things in the moment.
I was talking to an old friend this week. He was giving me some wisdom on this very thing. He said, "When __________ (his daughter) was little, she LOVED to hold my hand in public and she always wanted me right beside her. It was so sad when she reached the age that she no longer did that. When she was 13, she got out of bed one night and came to me in the living room. She said she couldn't sleep. I was sitting in my recliner. She sat in my lap and laid her head on my chest. It didn't take 2 minutes for her to fall asleep. I sat there with big tears rolling down my face, knowing something like that may never happen again. So I sat there with her for so long that my arms and legs fell asleep and I had trouble carrying her to bed."
Instead of demanding that Kate call me "Daddy," I'm going to cherish "Kev-y," "Ke-Fin," and the little sly smiles that come with them as long as I get them.
