man of the house.

Another one of those posts... the posts I sit on, for weeks, for months, turning over in my head, deciding what to say...

Friends would often ask us what Willow called M- she calls him by his first name. Neither of us minded. I actually liked it in a way- Mummy and Marky, the alliteration, a matched pair. Neither of us honestly felt the need for Mark to claim a title for himself, because it's a title for other people, really. M is not ruled by his ego. It's the little things that makes him a role model, a carer, a guardian, a man. It's seeing Willow mimic the best of him, and Willow learning directly and indirectly from him. It's the tickles and the cuddles, and the breakfasts and the disciplining and the sacrifices and memories he makes.

Then after Christmas, he went back to work, and Willow and I stayed with his family for a few days. Willow missed him. I'm so sad M is gone, she would cry. Someone commented to Willow playing on a swing set that she should tell M to hurry up and buy a house, so she can have a swing set of her own.
Whose M? She innocently asked. We laughed.
You know. M. The guy you live with. 
Oh him? I call him Daddy now, Willow casually answered. The friend looked at me and I shrugged. That's news to me too, I said. Then we more or less dropped the topic.

Sometimes she calls him Daddy. Sometimes she calls him Mark. Sometimes she calls him Daddy Mark, or Mark Daddy. Sometimes she calls me Christine. She refers to us jointly as her parents. I'd half tried to explain to her that Mark was technically a stepfather- Hey Willow, do you ever wonder why you call M, M, instead of Daddy?
No, why? 
Um...
Tell me!
Well, you know how Amber's daddy doesn't live with Amber and her mum?
But my daddy does live with us, She replied, while giving me some serious duh side eye.
Ah... yeah. Ok. 

M has never complained about rising Willow- the expenses, the changed lifestyle, changing his own plans or dreams for his own children. He accepts that. He doesn't complain. He doesn't haggle over money- he doesn't deny her classes in dancing or swimming, or trips to the zoo, or holidays to see her grandparents- I do think he loves her as he would his own. (And his own she is in so many ways!) He make bright plans for her future- cricket lessons, birthday present ideas, schooling- and makes her laugh. He reads her patient bed time stories, and she pretends to sleep, snuggled into his arm, so he can't leave. He patiently teaches her the names of the fish they catch, how to read (we try to, anyway) the cars on the road, and not so patiently reminds her to not talk back. Willow's friend's also adore M- one made a point of asking her mum if "Willow's dad" would be there today. Another time, during a sleepover, Amber was getting frustrated with Willow and was all What would M say if he was here about leaving the lids off the textas? I don't remember Willow's reply, but then the two girls were then all I wish M was here. He's pretty great, isn't he? to each other.
(The only thing I heard them say about me behind my back was "We'd better stop, Christine might come in and get mad" which I'm 90% sure means that M and I have the good cop/ bad cop routine happening.)

M doesn't let his ego or pride get in the way of caring for Willow. And it's beautiful and makes my heart want to explode for the two of them. Sometimes when  I tell M how great I think he is with Willow, how good he is, he jokes "Well, imagine how good I'd be with one of my own!"

But do you want to know a secret? I think Willow is pretty much is own already.