I Thought I Had At LEAST Another Month

As I sit here writing this, Bear keeps patting my leg [with one of my flip flops], shouting, “Mommy! Mommy! MOMMY!

Really?

I thought I had at least another month of Mama before Mommy took over. Even now, I keep asking him to say Mama and he grins at me and repeats, “Mommy!”

Excuse me, have you seen my baby? I know he was just here the other day . . .

It has to be because he hears Butter calling me Mommy, right? I tried desperately to break Butter of that habit recently, but he’s old enough to look at me like a crazy woman when I insist he call me Mama.

I am SO not okay with this. I’m just not.

I introduced myself to them the day they were born by telling them I was their Mama. I’ve always said Mama when talking to them. I get up in the middle of the night with them, I wipe their butts for them, I take care of them when they’re sick, I take payment in lieu of chores in the form of hugs and snuggles. Why can’t they do this one thing for me?

Hrmp.

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