Julia has started calling me “Mom.” Not Mama. Not Mommy. Just Mom. I don’t think I like it.
I realize that the transition to “Mom” is pretty much inevitable. There aren’t too many adults running around calling their mother “Mommy.” I was prepared to be “Mom,” but not just yet. I thought I’d have at least 5 years of Mommy. She’s just 2 years old and I’m already “Mom.”
If she keeps this up, she’ll be calling me by my first name by preschool. Then what’s next? Mrs. Grimmett?
I think this might be a little payback. Now and then, when I’m talking to Dave, Julia will pick up on using his name. She’ll say, “Hey Dave,” and just chatter away at him. I always let her know that he’s her “Daddy,” but have secretly thought it was pretty funny. Maybe this is a giant karma boot kicking me in the butt. I don’t know. All I know is, I like “Mommy” better than “Mom,” and “Mama” just melts my heart.
Here she is: Mom’s girl. Don’t you just hate the sound of that?