Nicknames are fantastic things!
I love it when someone feels comfortable enough around me to call me Char or Charly (my parents have called me Charly since I was a baby. My grandfather's name was Charlie and he passed away just months before I was born, so the nickname has a lot of sentiment behind it.). I don't think Clarke has an issue with nicknames either; just don't call him "Clarkie." EVER! He hates that. I've contemplated calling him Sparky, though, (after Clarke W. Griswold). And Brock has a number of endearing nicknames, including Brockie, Brocksters, B, Buddy, Stinkpot (daddy's favorite) and Punkin (momma's favorite).
The other day, I was talking to Cami (aha....another nickname!) and I thoughtlessly started calling her "punkin."
"Mom, that's my name!"
Brock was clearly phased by the idea that his sister might be called Punkin too.
His comment caught me off guard and we began discussing nicknames. And I have to admit, I sort of love that Brock really owns "punkin."
"And don't call her Brocksters, either, 'cause I like that one too." And then Brock added lightly, "But you can call her stinker, 'cause I don't like that nickname." Haha. What a nut!
Apparently, I'm a hopeless cause when it comes to nicknames, though, because "punkin" just naturally rolls off my mother tongue when it comes to my kiddies. And every time I start to call Cami "punkin" I have to give myself a mental head slap. Now, I'm trying to get used to saying "Sweet Pea" or "Princess" and hoping that, should those terms of endearment become habit, I don't slip and call my son "princess."
And since no post is complete without a picture, here is our Punkin and our Princess:
