Earlier this week, for the first time ever, I woke up to the sound of Merritt calling,"Maheee, Maheee!"
I heard it, didn't even notice how ___ early it was because I was so excited, and ran to get him from his room.
For the first time in two years, Merritt didn't call me "Dad."
I know, how, oh, shallow . . . does it really matter what he calls me? . . . but my boys prefer their dad, I am not making that up or exaggerating, and having my own name of Mom is kind of nice.
Merritt would point at me when you asked,"Who is your mom?" or "Where is your mom?"
But, he couldn't really say Mom.
AND, he even said it again yesterday, in a moment of crisis to get my attention. (you know one of those toddler crisis of "I want cheese now.")
He still calls me "Daeee." That's okay, he needs a way to get my attention. I've accepted that from the beginning. (Like "Daeee" means,"Hey Big Person, I Need Help.")
But it was really nice to get a "mom" that morning . . . .
