Today's musing is brought to you by the word Mommy. A word that can be said with many a different meaning. But today I am going to talk about what it means when my son
Being a stay-at-home has it perks. I can stay in my pj's and Spencer doesn't know the difference. When we wake, we can lounge in bed and snuggle without me worrying about being late for work or him for daycare.
But being a stay-at-home can also wreck havoc. I am the one person Spencer sees all day, every day. When he hurts himself he screams for me. When Daddy is disciplining and he doesn't like what he's being told? He screams for me. I hear "mommy, mommy" more times than I ever imagined I would.
I remember when he started making sounds and everything I read said he would say dada first. Guess what? He didn't. His first word was mama. And he would say it all day long! mamamamamam It was cute and endearing and I didn't mind at all. I even would reply with dada. I wanted my husband to have something endearing but it was a little while before dada came.
Then the day came when he switched from mama to mommy. It all seemed so grown up and I realized he really was moving out of the baby/infant stage into the toddler/big boy stage. I am mommy and he never lets me forget it. Not that I would, because it is one of the best titles I have ever held.
But there are times that I wish he would call for his daddy. That he would want his daddy. Those times? In the middle of the night when he should be sleeping but for whatever reason he wakes and can't settle himself back to sleep. It's that mommy, mommy, mommy that I wish was daddy, daddy, daddy. Not that daddy doesn't try...he does. But the only thing that it creates is a hysterical child screaming even louder for mommy.
Have I created a monster? Will he really wake up one day and realize that daddy is cool beans and mommy is not? And will I suddenly wish he was calling mommy once again?