Who’s Your Daddy?

It is one thing for the kiddo to call you “mama” or “dada”, because their vocabulary is limited. It felt like a completely different thing when we referred to ourselves as “Mom” or “Dad” to the kiddo… in front of the bio-parent.

We know better. We know how awkward and potentially hurtful that could feel to the bio-parents.  It can be interpreted a number of different ways, like maybe we think we are her parents, or maybe we are planning on adopting their child, or have little faith that they will get their child back. And in actuality, we are only referring to ourselves this way to the kiddo, because that is how they refer to us.
We know better, and this occurrence was just a slip of the tongue.  It happened when I was playing stay-at-home-dad.  This period was great, it had been a dream of mine for a long time, and it was everything I had imagined it would be.  On Tuesdays, our Ava has a long, supervised visit at The Family Room (TFR), for 5-hours.  This is great for our kiddo and the bio-family, but also great for us, as it allows us to get our house back in order, run some errands, exercise, and even go out to dinner by ourselves.  On the Tuesday in question, I had a great morning with our little girl, it was summer, so she spent most of her morning running around in a diaper.  When it came time to take her to her visit, I realized that we needed to do laundry for her, and there were limited outfits available.

It happened when I was playing stay-at-home-dad.  This period was great, it had been a dream of mine for a long time, and it was everything I had imagined it would be.

I am not very fashionable.  I tend to wear the same type of outfits, day in and day out, and they are basic.  I have no idea how to put together a coordinated, let alone cute outfit for a toddler.  This is why, when I dress Ava, she typically wears dresses or rompers.  Not because of gender stereotypes, no I often joke that if we had a boy toddler, he would wear dresses and rompers too.  I simply choose dresses and rompers because I know I can’t go wrong with matching or coordinating.  With a romper or a dress, there is little chance that I choose pajama bottoms as pants.  It is a selection made out of ease and necessity, not my fashion forward sensibility. On this day however, I had apparently exhausted what had previously seemed to be endless supply of cute dresses and rompers and was forced to put together an outfit.

I then drove to the visit to drop her off.  Honestly, I had no idea how well or poorly I did putting together her outfit.  Unfortunately, she was still too young for me to use the excuse “she picked out her outfit herself”.  I had to own it.  In her visit bag, I had hastily stuffed a few more articles of clothing, just pieces I grabbed at random, hoping someone might be able to make an outfit out of them. When I arrived, her bio-mom was waiting eagerly to see her beautiful daughter.  We made small talk during the exchange, and just as the conversation was winding down, I did something I didn’t need to do…I made reference to the awkward outfit she was wearing.

 Unfortunately, she was still too young for me to use the excuse “she picked out her outfit herself”.  I had to own it.

I could have just left.  I should have just left.  Instead, I explained to the bio-mom that if she didn’t like the outfit she was wearing, that she should blame me, not Jewell, because I was home alone and had to pick an outfit out myself.  Then I looked the kiddo in the eyes, as bio-mom was holder her and said “you can blame me, because Dad has no fashion sense”.

I cringed as I said it, but there was no back tracking. I felt like Larry David on Curb Your Enthusiasm, just bumbling through life, saying things that don’t need to be said, and making awkward situations for myself. I didn’t know what to do. Should I apologize for calling myself “Dad”? Should I correct myself, and say my name? Should I give an in-depth explanation of how “Dad” is how she refers to me and it is just easier? Well, I didn’t do any of those things. Instead, I awkwardly and abruptly ended the small talk and began to walk away. I tried to act like it never happened, but in my mind, all I could think of was how stupid that was, and how quickly I could leave the building.

As I scurried towards the door, it felt like everybody in the room wanted to talk to me. The volunteers wanted to know how my day was going, the supervisors wanted to ask me questions about how our kiddo is doing and the status of her case.  Even bio-parents of kids not in our care wanted to say something to me.  I must have seemed crazy as I shuffled across the room, avoiding eye contact, and providing brief answers to everyone.  I finally made it to my car, left the parking lot, drove around the corner and parked the car. I just tried to take deep breaths. I felt so bad.  Such a small slip of the tongue, but I felt like it could have such a huge impact.

Luckily for me, the bio-mom never mentioned it, and continued to refer to us as Ava’s “best friends”.  When we went to pick her up that evening, bio-dad had made it to the visit as well.  We talked about the outfits I had brought, and how ridiculous they were, and nobody brought up my slip of the tongue.

Follow Up:  In a visit after this incident, I dressed her in a cute romper, but apparently I put it on backwards.  I guess you can go wrong with rompers and dresses.

Photo: Ava learning to walk with Aaron

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