Ethan is just starting to be able to say his own name. That’s one thing you don’t take into account when you’re naming a baby – how difficult is it to say the name. At least we didn’t take it into account. He’s been saying his brother’s and his mother’s names for some time now, but he’s just now starting to say his. It comes out “E-ten”, but it’s really cute. You’ll hold a picture of him up to him and say “Who’s that?” and he’ll say “E-ten”. We’ll wait a bit to work on his middle name, Wesley.
I used to look longingly at people who were with their children, wanting the relationship they had. I still look at them, but now it’s because they always remind me of my boys. Being a father is one of the best things I’ve ever done. One of the hardest too, for that matter. But definitely one of the best.
My boys. At first, when we got the news that the child Lesa was carrying was going to be a boy, I was disappointed. I had wanted a daughter. I think mothers and sons have a stronger bond than fathers and sons, and fathers and daughters a stronger bond than mothers and daughters. But that disappointment quickly faded (it took all of about five minutes after the pronouncement), and now I’m glad I have sons. I still think mothers and sons have a stronger bond than fathers and sons, and I know that, if Ethan remains as stubborn and hardheaded as he is now, which, to be fair, is as stubborn and hardheaded as I can be, then the two of us will clash heads. A lot. But I think we will still have a good bond – Lesa always says he’s daddy’s boy, and he probably is. Which is nice.