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Sleep and The Origin Of Big Daddy

October 2012

The draft for this post was written on March 17th.  I’ve resurrected it.

My wife, the mother of my children and the apple of my eye, Mrs. BgddyJim (Full name, Mrs. Babymama BgddyJim), is something of a fantastic mother to our daughters.  Every six weeks or so, she’ll have a sleepover for the girls in which they get to invite all of their friends from school – twelve is the average turnout.  Fortunately for me, during these sleepovers my wife usually asks me to go hang out with the boys so the girls can have some girl time.  Read that again if you have to fellas, I’m not exaggerating – with fourteen girls in the house, between the ages of five and nine, my wife asks me to go out to dinner and catch a movie with my friends.  Well, last Friday night was a little different.  I didn’t make any plans so I wound up sticking around and helping out (albeit only in the background, I tried to make my presence “small”).  After dinner all of the girls went outside to play and I staked out my spot on the couch, kicked the recliner back and checked out some new posts from blogs that I follow, on my phone.  Before long I was looking at the back of my eyelids (probably around 8 o’clock)…  I didn’t even hear the girls come in and slept through twelve females baking, frosting and eating cookies.

Sometimes your body just says, son, it’s time to shut down for a bit and there isn’t anything you can do about it.   After almost 60 miles in two days, that was the case Friday night.  I woke up on the couch at about 11:30 just as my wife finished setting up her new cell phone and as we made our way to the bedroom she even commented that she couldn’t believe I slept through the cookie making – I was back asleep within ten minutes, one of my favorite movies playing on my computer.

The origin of “Babymama” and “Big Daddy”

First of all, let’s get one thing straight right off the bat;  Babymama, the way I use it, does not mean “my babies (baby’s) mother”, a term that has become synonymous with single mothers with multiple kids from different fathers or a sperm donor for a – hell, I don’t know what you call it, but it ain’t a father.  I almost considered changing my wife’s pet name when the movie Baby Mama came out in ’08 because I just couldn’t refer to my wife like that…

The actual origin goes like this, there are two types of people in America.  You’re either a Beatles person or you’re an Elvis person (Pulp Fiction 1994).  My wife is the former, I am the latter.  One day, somewhere between ’96 and ’99 or so, in my best Elvis voice, I started calling my wife Babymama.  My wife loved it, so it stuck.

The origin of Big Daddy was a little more shaky.  My wife is atrocious at picking names – if my first daughter were to be a boy, my dear wife’s first choice for a name was Mercury.  God help me, I don’t know how we survived picking names for our girls.  My wife’s first choices for my pet name were worse, like the Sweet-Tea-Pie McDonald’s commercial – a commercial so ugly and sexist (in the reverse) that I won’t even link to it on my blog – if you don’t know the one to which I am referring, it can be found youtube – I actually contemplated shooting the television the second time I saw that commercial (that isn’t hyperbole).  The nicknames my wife liked weren’t quite as bad as “Snuggle wuggles” or “Chipmunk”, but they were along the same lines – cute, but derogatory and demeaning to masculinity.  After a bit of consternation, and a long conversation in which I had to explain the concept of reverse sexism to my wife, she absolutely knocked one out of the park by throwing out “Big Daddy” and I accepted, because – well hey, what guy wouldn’t accept that?

So that’s us, babymama and big daddy.

So I’ve been Big Daddy ever since (my iPhone calls me Big Daddy too).


  1. Chatter says:

    Its funny, once you explained where her name came from, all I can hear now is elvis saying it instead of a ghetto reference. BTW Pulp Fiction is my second favorite tarintino written movie behind true romance.

  2. neonspndx says:

    I love this: Mrs. BgddyJim (Full name, Mrs. Babymama BgddyJim). So funny!!

  3. elisariva says:

    Beatles and Elvis – what about the Stones?

    • bgddyjim says:

      Talk to Quentin Elisa, talk to Quentin.

      • elisariva says:

        Ha, Mr. Tarantino is unique.

        Hey – here is a subject I am just not ready to write on, maybe you have it in you – Is Lance the New Millie Vanilli?

      • bgddyjim says:

        It’s going to be a while before I can tackle that one. I’m not getting all emotional about the subject, but this hurts. I read a little side story about one of the clean guys that they coerced into doping, his dad was an addict who’d died and the dude found peace on a bike. Turned out he was quite fast and made Lance’s team… They at least gave him the option to take drugs – and I got the impression it was an “or else” deal – he had to choose between doing what killed his dad or riding on the team. You can understand why that one would hit close to home – I have to give that a few weeks to settle. I’m in no position, coming up on my 20 years sober, to comment logically.

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