Clio has been calling me "Mom" on occasion these days. I'm not sure exactly how she picked it up -- maybe from hearing A. and I address our mothers as "mom" on various occasions -- but she does it in an almost mischievous manner, like she's checking it out to see if it works / she can get away with it. I can't say I like it. She sounds way too grown up when she says it, and I feel way too un-grown-up to be called it.
There's a difference between being a "mommy" and a "mom." A "Mommy" is someone young and vibrant, possibly even hip. She plays and laughs with her adoring young children, kisses their boo-boos when they fall down, tucks them into bed at night. But a "Mom"? Entirely different. A mom is a frumpy someone you argue with and roll your eyes at. She wears bad jeans and has an outdated haircut and drives a mini-van with a "My child was student of the month..." bumper sticker on the back. She's worrywort. She's a nag. You wish she'd just leave you alone.
This is, of course, ridiculous. Of course moms are not all those things. And even if they are, who cares? If you like tapered, high-waisted jeans, hey, why not go with what works? I should add that I don't necessarily think of my mom in this way either (although, Mom, I'm glad you finally took my advice and started buying boot cut...). So, why the aversion to being called mom? Maybe it has to do with my mixed feelings about inching toward middle age. And surely it has something to do with not wanting my girls to grow up. It's nice to be needed in that primal, mommy way.
At the same time, I have to admit -- I am starting to feel less like a Mommy and more like a Mom. And the truth is, I like it. The baby phase was wonderful in many ways. But as Elsa and Clio become more talkative, more capable, more able to do and enjoy a variety of activities -- in short, as they become less like babies and more like people -- I feel infinitely closer to them. I enjoy their company more and more. Sure, it takes a little more energy -- verbal, emotional and otherwise -- but it's infinitely more interesting.
The other day, I was in the kitchen getting the girls' dinner ready while they played at the little table with their Curious George dolls. (Dolls? Stuffed animals? Plush characters? Whatever.) They were telling me what they wanted to eat, and what their Curious Georges were doing ("Curious George sitting!") and various other important toddler tidbits. I, in turn, was responding, asking questions, explaining what I was doing, recounting what we'd done that afternoon.
At a certain moment, for some reason, I heard myself -- really heard myself -- and thought: Wow! I am talking with my children! This is what I sound like as a mother talking with her childrenI And my next thought was: I like this. I like being able to have an actual two-way relationship with my children; to know that what I'm saying is understood; to be able to communicate not just a physical level, but a verbal one. All this time, I've been looking forward to this stage of motherhood, eager for it to begin. I was hesitant to admit it, even to myself, because, well, babies are the best thing since sliced bread and you're supposed to treasure every minute and they grow up so fast.... etc. etc. And yes, I have enjoyed the baby phase. And I'd still rather be called Mommy for the time being. But I think I'm really going to love being a Mom.
PS -- I'm excited to announce that my novel, Eden Lake, advanced to the semi-final round (top 100) in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award competition. Thanks so much to all of you who read the excerpt, wrote reviews and helped spread the word. The 3 finalists will be announced on May 15, and then there's a vote, a la American Idol. The chances of my getting to that round are slim to say the least, but my fingers are nevertheless crossed. Stay tuned!
