I'm having a hard time calling him Baby B these days.
When he does big boy things like place very important phone calls. Probably to China, running up my minutes without me even knowing it. And look at him. I mean, he's not a baby anymore. Despite what his mama says.
I read many blogs where parents call their kiddo by his/her real name. And, if you looked hard enough through archives, or took the many hints I've given that lend themselves to discovering what we call him in real life, then you probably already know that he's at least named after a famous soccer player.
And, no, it's not Ronaldo. Or Pele. Though, there is a certain ring to Ronaldino. Maybe if we ever have another son...
So, anyway, I'm stalling. And I don't know why. Like it's a big reveal or something. I mean, I blog. I can't be too private, right?
His name is Beckham. Named after, no lie, the delightfully charming and delicious David Beckham. B and I picked out that name my junior year of college. I remember the phone call specifically. It was snowing. I was holed up in the ADPi house with one of my two roommates, and I think we were both on the phone with our significant other since we couldn't see them in person due to the treacherous conditions. We somehow got on the subject of children, and both agreed that Beckham was a fantastic name for the son we might have together someday. And then, four years later, we signed a birth certificate and gave that name a real meaning and permanency in our lives.
So, there you have it. And just like that old Beanie Baby you have from 1995, Baby B is now retired. He will, from this point forward, be referred to lovingly as Becks. Since, that is what we call him on a daily basis when he's being cute or getting into trouble or snuggling in our laps. And I no longer have to backspace every time I write his real name in a blog post.
And let me just throw it out how weird it is for me to even see his real name on the screen. It's like I've suddenly changed the main character in a novel.
Am I over dramatizing this a smidge?
So, without further ado, our life in pictures as of late. Or, Becks' life in pictures, at least.
Because no toy box should be left un-sat in. Of course.