Don’t Call Him Angel in the Morning

Michael is a sweet baby.

Michael has an incredibly pleasant personality.

He smiles at everyone. He seldom cries in public.

He’s pretty adaptable. He rolls with what is going on and where we have to go. Thank goodness, especially this last weekend. Sometimes when he falls asleep in the car, and wakes up someplace not at home, he does look around like: where are we and how did we get here? But usually when he sees me, and/or sees his bottle, he’s pretty content.

When he gets tired, he fusses; I give him a little bit of a bottle, his binky, and he falls asleep on my shoulder. This is one of my favorite things: when Michael falls asleep on me.

People comment on how good he is. They are charmed by him, calling him sweet, handsome, adorable… so many complimentary things. I usually agree with them.

It bugs me a little bit, however, when someone says he’s an angel.

Of course people *are* going to say Michael is an angel.

But he’s not. Gabriel’s an angel, my angel baby.

Michael? He’s better than a angel. He’s here.


Disclaimer: I know this is my issue. No one means to be insensitive. It’s not like I wear a sign around my neck: Mother of a Still Baby. I’m not getting my panties in a twist over it. It just bugs me sometimes, and I write about stuff that bugs me.

As a matter of fact, it seems like all I write about lately are things that bug me. I need some good news or a cute Flora story soon.

Maybe some pictures. Something lighthearted and fun.

Suggestions welcome.


What do people call your babies (or spouse, or pet) that bugs you? What do people call *you* that bugs you?