Do you remember when your babies were little cooing masses of pinkness and all you could think of and long for was to hear "mama" coming from those little rosebud lips? Yeah, me too. Fast-forward a few years to the present, and, well, not so much anymore.
Because that's *all* I hear. Mommy. Mommy, mommy, mommy. And for a bit of variety: Momma, Mum, Mummy, Mother, Mooottthhherrrr, and the occasional Ma thrown in for good measure. It seems that neither of the girls can start a conversation with me without prefacing it with a minimum of seven mommy's. Rachel does it more than Leah, but Leah does it too. Does this sound familiar to anyone?
Here's a conversation we had last night, after Rae's soccer.
Rachel: Mommy. Mommy, mommy. Mom?
Rachel: Mommy, mommy...
Me. Yes Rachel, I'm listening, what do you want?
Rachel. Mommy, Leah took the boy Barbie again, and he's *mine*.
Me: OK, Rae, I'll deal with it. It's time to start getting ready for bed, anyway. But you know, once I say 'yes' when you're talking to me, I *know* that it's me you're talking to, and you don't have to keep saying 'Mommy'. OK?
Rachel: Mommy. Mommy....
Me (with a definite edge to my voice): Yes, Rachel?
Rachel: Mommy. Mumma....can we go to the park now?
Me: No, Rae. It's bedtime now. It's too late to go to the park.
Rachel: But Mommy. ... Mommy, I *want* to go to the park. It isn't fair! [start of waterworks].
Me: Rachel, *please* stop saying 'mommy', I *know* you're talking to me. OK, from now on, no more saying 'mommy', I don't want to hear that word again tonight. [sees Rae open her mouth] And don't call me Alison either. [mouth closes and pouts].
Rachel [thinks for a minute]: Dude.....?
You just can't win.