I still vividly recall the moment my son, then 10 years old, referred to me in a way that left me momentarily stunned. I stood there, eyes wide and expression frozen, as he casually walked away, leaving me grappling with a newfound reality. The word that had just escaped his lips? Mom.
I had always imagined my children would call my husband and me “Daddy” and “Mommy” indefinitely. We were perfectly content with that arrangement. While my other children fluctuated between “Mommy” and “Mom,” my eldest had steadfastly remained in the “Mommy” camp. In fact, he had never uttered “Mom” until that moment. Yet, there it was — a sudden and unexpected shift.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, his voice carrying a maturity that seemed too advanced for his age. He walked away as if nothing significant had just happened, but I felt a profound jolt of realization. My baby was growing up.
That year marked a pivotal transition before he entered middle school. He was evolving, with longer limbs and an awkward gait reminiscent of a young colt. Although he still enjoyed activities with his brothers, his interests were beginning to branch out, and his friendships were expanding beyond our home. I could see hints of eye rolls and huffs that hinted at the teenage years ahead — a phase that would surely bring both challenges and rewards. I knew that growing up was a part of life, but it felt like just yesterday he was a little toddler handing me dandelions in his tiny hands. Where had the time gone?
As a mother of four, I thought I had mastered the art of parenting. I could swiftly change a diaper, handle toddler tantrums like a pro, and even anticipate when someone was about to be sick. However, this was uncharted territory. None of my other children had transitioned in this way before.
There were moments when I felt overwhelmed by the constant need for “Mommy.” It seemed to echo endlessly, a reminder of the dependency that came with that title. I would occasionally roll my eyes or sigh with frustration after hearing it for the umpteenth time. Now, it was as if a light had been turned off — a sudden end to an era filled with moments of nurturing. I never anticipated that losing two little letters would carry such weight, but it signified a deeper shift: my son no longer needed the nurturing that came with being “Mommy.”
While this change felt foreign to me, it was a necessary evolution. Life often presents us with new thresholds we must cross, regardless of our readiness. We cannot see what lies ahead, but we must keep moving forward.
I was just beginning the roller coaster of preadolescence with him, but that singular moment of hearing “Mom” jolted my awareness. It encapsulated a whirlwind of emotions — surprise, uncertainty, and a bittersweet acknowledgment of how quickly time passes, tinged with the heartache of watching them grow.
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In summary, the transition from “Mommy” to “Mom” signifies a profound shift in the parent-child relationship, marking a child’s growth and independence. This moment, while bittersweet, is a natural part of the journey of motherhood, reminding us of the fleeting nature of time.