Just Call Me "Mommy"

Why is it that little people always try and grow up too fast? I vaguely remember that feeling, that rushing when-will-I-be-able-to-eat-candy-for-breakfast sentiment that comes with the irresponsibility and ignorance of youth. When one is young, one wants to be able to make every decision (and then one becomes an adult and making decisions isn't always as much fun as it's cracked up to be).

My four-year-old son recently had the following discussion with me.

R: "Mom, when I was three, I called you "Mommy." Now, when I'm four, I call you "Mom."
Me: "What about Daddy?"
R: "When I was three I called him, "Daddy." Now that I'm four I call him "Dad."

The next day he went on to tell me that when he's five he's calling me "Faith."

Seriously, I know there is a certain amount of independence that comes along with knowing how to read, the ability to state the difference between herbivores, carnivores, and omnivores, and being able to discern the particular type of a dozen different dinosaurs and sharks by sight, but I want to be "Mommy" for at least a few more years. Indefinitely would be better.

Practice Makes Perfect

There have been more signs of a certain little man growing up way too fast around here. I have to say that while I’m not a fan of the whole growing-up thing, I still find myself smiling when I spot the symptoms.

My little boy has taken to slouching around the house with his hands in his pockets. I don’t know why. He doesn’t put anything into them. Nor does he take anything out of them. I suppose it’s just a new fun thing to do.

Certain words are finding their way into his everyday vocabulary as well. Take the word “very” for example. “I’m very done, mommy.” Or “I very love you, mommy,” are popular phrases nowadays. “I guess” is another expression that is heard with a frequency. “I’m gonna play dinosaurs, I guess.” “I want peanut-fluffernutter, I guess.”

Last night when he was asked if he was hungry he replied, “No, I’m just practicing.” Neither of us could figure out precisely what it was that he was practicing. But whatever it was he deemed it more important than eating, so it must have been vital.

Where's the Rewind Button?

I have begun to notice little nuances in my son’s behavior that may hail the beginning of the end of his completely dependent toddlerhood. I’m fervently hoping that these things are just flukes and that I actually have at least one more year of his being my baby instead of a person too quickly on his way to adulthood (or worse- that period of time that comes between baby and adult- teenager).

The little guy was experimenting with referring to my husband and I by our first names for a bit. After it became apparent that he meant to carry on with that for some time we tried to make him understand that it was rude to do so, after which he insisted on calling me “mom” instead of “mommy.” It would seem that a three-year-old is much too old to go around calling the person who practically saw the door of heaven during childbirth “mommy.” When he’s not paying attention or when he’s tired the “mommy”s still slip out.

Now that he has been fully potty-trained for about four months he has started to order me out of the bathroom. He’ll point to some innocuous place on the way to the toilet and command, “stay there, mommy.” I wait and stand in my spot for about ten seconds before heading into the bathroom to save the toilet paper from being dropped into the bowl.

It could just be my imagination, but I feel as though he tends to avoid holding my hand as much as possible when we’re out running errands. I suppose that means I’ll have to stop smothering him with kisses in the grocery store soon. Speaking of kisses, he has greatly offended his father by refusing to kiss him. The man is really upset. I don’t think it helps that the child will then come and kiss me until I practically shine with spit.