Good Daddy

My brother was the first grandchild for both sides of our family, and therefore, he had the privilege of giving our grandparents their grandparent-names.  My Mom's parents are Pappaw and Memmaw (though the rest of the family spells and says it as Mammaw), and my Dad's are Grandaddy and Grandma.  However, when Ryan was little, he couldn't say Grandaddy.  He said Gooddaddy.  Now, my Grandaddy was a big joker, though there were times when you couldn't tell whether or not he was kidding, and one of those times was when he responded to my Mom after Ryan called him Gooddaddy, "He shouldn't call me Gooddaddy, I ain't good."  So my Mom coached Ryan on pronouncing "Grandaddy".  When Ryan actually did call him Grandaddy instead of Gooddaddy, Grandaddy lamented, "He don't call me Gooddaddy no more!"

Well, Seth's name for Evie may be Daddy, but he is, in fact, a GOOD Daddy, and I have noticed this particularly this weekend.  Since they had a few days at home together without me and everything went well, it was fairly obvious to me that he survived, and she survived.  But watching them interact and seeing how much she's changed and learned even in the last few days has just reinforced what I knew before we had her: Seth is a great Dad.  He's so patient with her when she is crying.  He always tries to find ways to pacify her if she's crying, by singing to her, distracting her with other things, rocking her, or whatever it seems to take.  He snuggles with her, he gives her tummy time, he plays games with her (like my favorite new game Make-My-Face), and is just so incredibly sweet with her.  I guess all that practice with four little sisters paid off.

Observe: