What's in a Name?

I waited, what seemed like a very long time, to consistently hear the word “mama” from Braelyn. When she began picking up words before her first birthday, “mama” was one of her firsts and she continued to say it just fine for a few months, then suddenly it stopped. I was so confused, and honestly a little hurt. How could she not say “mama?” I’m the one that sings to her when she has trouble sleeping. I clean up her messes. I make sure she is fed, happy, and healthy. I read to her, and I even include voices to match the characters. So why wasn’t she acknowledging all of my love and devotion by doing me the small favor of saying my name.

Thoughts like “well maybe I’m just not a good enough mom” entered my head and poisoned my self-confidence—all because Braelyn wouldn’t say a simple two-syllable word. Is that really the only feedback I wanted to hear to feel like I was a “good mom?” I didn’t see it at the time, but now I know I wasn’t paying attention to the other feedback Braelyn was giving me.

Like how many non-verbal queues she gave to show me she appreciated me: hugs, kisses, giggles, smiles, holding my hand, only wanting me when she got hurt, showing me she wanted to play by bringing me a toy, watching her face light up when I came home from a long night at school, etc. There were so many things Braelyn did to show me she loved me, and I was missing all of them because those actions weren’t attached to a word! I’d given that “mama” word so much power that not hearing it influenced my mood, and in turn my attitude and reactions to Braelyn.

Tonight was a different story. As I sat in the driver’s seat of our car, with Mike in the passenger seat and Braelyn safely secure in her car seat behind us, all I heard was “mom, mom, mommy, mom, mom, mom, mom, MOM, MOMMMMYYY.” Is it possible that hearing “mom” could annoy me? Back when I didn’t hear it at all, I thought I would never get tired of hearing her call me “mommy;” but here I was getting frustrated because my 3-year old wanted some attention. And ironically enough Daddy wasn’t the one she wanted to talk to, even though he was sitting right in front of her and wasn’t focused on keeping a car on the road like I was.

“Mom, sing Katy Perry Roar with me”

“Mom I like this song”

“Mom, smell my feet”

“Mom, bere (where) are my books”

“Mom, I want my water”

“Mom, look at me”

“Mommy, louder!”

“Mommy please turn music up”

“Oh, look Mommy, cows!”

I found myself turning my head every five seconds to answer a question or to tell her to “please ask me nicely to turn the music up.” And then, I found myself sarcastically saying “Braelyyyyyyn you’re driving me craaaaaaazy!” I say “sarcastically” but I think I was also being serious, and then I felt sorry.

I know it’s important to make your kids wait, and that they need to learn the value of patience, and believe me those are all things that I do on a regular basis. A common phrase in our house is “Braelyn, you need to be patient with your mommy.” But am I being patient with my toddler? Am I doing what I ask her to do everyday? I could argue that I’m not.  

I thought about the time I had spent without hearing that glorious name, the one I give all power to, and the one that defines me as a person. During that time all I wanted was for her to say “Mommy look at the cows” or “Mommy we’re best friends” or “Mom sing this song with me.” Today I took my name for granted. Maybe it’s because I was exhausted from getting both of us to and through school today, or maybe I was annoyed and frustrated because I was driving and Braelyn didn’t think, “Oh, Mommy looks busy, maybe I should ask Daddy to get my water.” Because naturally, as a 3-year old, she should be able to see that Mom is busy, right? (Oh wait, I’m sorry, I just temporarily entered an alternate universe where toddlers actually care that Mommy is busy.)

The fact of the matter is I’m a mom. It’s my job to pay attention to her, even if all I want to do is zone out and listen to the radio on our 40-minute drive home. It’s my job to have conversations about cows, trees, smelly feet, the mountains, counting the birds in the sky, telling her she’s my best friend too, asking her how her day was, telling her I missed her, how much I love her, how smart she is, how she makes me laugh, singing Katy Perry’s “Roar” very off tune, or even holding her hand when she feels sad. The fact of the matter is if I’m too busy talking on the phone or listening to the hit songs on the radio, I’m going to miss it. I’m going to miss her telling me she loves me, or saying silly things like “smell my feet.” The truth is, I’m going to miss her and then when she’s a teenager and stops talking to me, I’ll wonder why. 

What makes me a good mom, isn't how often I hear "mom" throughout the day. What makes me a good mom is how I respond to that title. Whether I choose to ignore it because I'm too busy at the moment, or whether I stop, look at my beautiful, silly daughter and say "I'm right here babe, and yes I will smell your feet."