Aaron has always called me Momma. I don't really know why. I don't know if I referred to myself as Momma when he was learning to talk or what but I always loved the fact that I was "Momma". I wasn't Mom or Mommy - how trite, how cliche, how unoriginal!
However, the last couple of weeks he's been calling me "Mom" and quite frankly it's breaking my heart. My first inclination was to ignore it. I wouldn't answer him when he called me Mom, I'd say, "I'm sorry, were you talking to me? My name is Momma." and he'd just giggle and continue to say Mom. I was, and still am, hoping that it's just a phase and that one day he'll start calling me Momma again.
I mean, Mom, it's so plain, so uninspired! It's like coloring inside the lines, it's like pancakes with no syrup, it's like riding on a plane and never looking out the window. The name itself is like a stale saltine on my tongue and I've got nothing to wash it down with except my tears.
Okay, maybe I'm being slightly overdramatic. I mean I call my mom, Mom and she's anything but plain. But it's just that being Momma made me feel special in its own little way and frankly I'm kind of sad about the prospect of that going away. Plus it's one of a million reminders that my little boy isn't quite so little anymore. But I'll get over it I'm sure. Maybe, . . . eventually, after years of therapy.
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