I can’t take it. It’s breaking my heart.
MM has begun to call me “mom.”
No, this is not acceptable. I am still mommy. We can’t be rushing ahead to the title of mom like this. It’s not fair. I need more time. I need those cheeks to stay chubby. I have photo albums to finish. I want a few more kisses and a lot more cuddling. I cherish the reliance of that little hand that curls around my finger as we walk side by side.
I’m not ready for mom.
But the time has come. We are moving forward. He knows what he likes. He knows what he fears. He doesn’t hesitate to say “I don’t know.” He sees the world before him and he’s determined to conquer it.
I am increasingly a bystander, watching the daily miracles of change and growth in my son. Sometimes with pride. Sometimes with fear. Sometimes with annoyance. I know this is good and necessary. But letting go is hard.
I’m reminded to cherish these remaining moments that I am still mommy, even as the invisible cord between us lengthens further and further. I’ll treasure the sweet lilt of trust as he calls out “mommy?” when he looks for me, and the exuberant crescendo of “mommy, mommy, mommy, MOMMY, MOMMY!!!” when he sees I’ve come home. Being mom is equally wonderful, but it’s different. I wasn’t prepared for how quickly it’d happen.
I’ll always feel like his mommy, but MM has gone and flipped those letters around into “my mom.” Hopefully, as he grows up, he’ll always know that he can flip them back whenever he wants. Please do, MM. Just once in a while. How I love being your mommy.