There comes a time in every one of my children’s development that they start calling me “Mama.” I don’t really know why they do it, since we prefer the term, “Mom” around here. Maybe it’s from the beloved Disney movies (Roo calls Kanga Mama, I think Thumper calls his Mom ‘Mama’, and it’s probably used in many more that I can’t think of right now). But it seems to me they all have called me Mama at some point in time. I think it’s when they realize that Mom and Mama and Mommy are all the same person. I guess I should be proud of John that’s he’s made this conection. But all it does is irritate me. I don’t picture myself as “Mama.” I dont’ wear an apron and a do-rag around the house, nor am I on the Carol Burnette Show. They don’t ever go through a stage where they call Ryan “Papa”–I guess that’s just too “Little house on the prairie for us all”. So this morning at church he kept saying it over and over and over again–Mama this and Mama that, and I realized that he is now in the Mama stage. Let’s hope it’s not that long lasts until he goes back to Mom.
It’s ‘Mom’, not ‘Mama’, if you please.
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Maybe I didn’t watch enough LHOTP when I was a kid, so I LOVED it when my kids called me Mama. It was a throwback to their pre-conversational days when every gutteral sound they made meant something to me, even if no one else could understand it. I love it when my kids call me Mama. It reminds me that they are my babies.