Grady. Grades. Gradester. G-man. Grady-bug. Bug. The bug. Buggy. And, he is only a little over a week old.
I learned a few things about my family these past two weeks. Well, "remembered" is probably a better word for it—I had forgotten I knew.
We are nickname people. Four days old, and we were already trying out new names for this kid; it helped me understand how my younger sister got dubbed "goose" for awhile there by my mother, and how she's now known by all, except my mother, as "Zero." It's the result of a constant evolution of nicknames through the years, which we could probably trace if we tried hard. Really, though, it just kind of happened one day.
I also realized that my family really, really likes to turn things into a game. Anything and everything. We all had to have our votes in about the date and time Grady would be born, and we all were well aware of who was winning that one. But, that wasn't enough. Because when Grady was born, instead of telling us his weight, Ash had us all guess. "How come our family turns everything into a game?" I asked. Ash responded, "because it's fun!" It is fun.
It's this day-in-day-out stuff that makes the ordinary fun. It's passing each other in the hallway and trying out a new nickname, just because. It's making things into a guessing game, just because. There's a lot of love behind it all. I know that. Through everything, there is still love. And, I couldn't be more excited that he's here with us now, to share in the love and the funny forms it takes. Welcome, my nephew.
