Mom. My little baby is calling me Mom now. He woke up from his nap yesterday screaming it at the top of his lungs. (Which is better than the other day when I could have sworn he was yelling my name or the day before that when woke up bellowing "CHICKEN NUGGETS! MORE CHICKEN NUGGETS!") All day he has been calling me Mom instead of Mama or Mommy. I must be reacting in some way because he gets a sly little look on his face when I answer him. It sounds so strange, as if overnight he turned into a teenager.
Over the weekend I sat through the last X-Men movie with Matthew. I have nothing against comic books, I like them in fact. Early in my internet career I did a project with Marvel that was a lot of fun and one of my favorite projects. But comic book movies are just silly. I have a hard time suspending disbelief in general but when superheroes are involved it is almost impossible. There is always a "that man is wearing tights" moment for me. The only exception for me are the Batman films. And really only two of those. Anyway, I sat through the whole movie keeping my mouth shut (extraordinarily hard) and Matthew enjoyed himself immensely. He has an intense love for mutants. As the credits rolled we talked about what kind of mutation we would want.
M: You would have awesome decorating powers.
Me: Yes!
M: (throwing both hands toward the ceiling) Behold! Crown molding!
Me: Can I shoot rickrack from my fingertips?
M: Yes, and chintz from your eyes.
Me: Wow.
M: And you will be called Mar-Tha.
I don't know what's funnier - your mutant name, or the fact that your husband used the word "chintz" in the right context.
Posted by: Mignon | January 17, 2007 at 02:46 PM
I don't think anything pierces as profoundly as the knowing look of a little one. And the exchange with your hubby, brilliant!
Posted by: amanda | January 17, 2007 at 04:26 PM
When you get your decorating powers, please come by my house. We need all the help we can get ...
I also heart mutants. I would really like to be a shape-shifter.
Posted by: Marcy | January 17, 2007 at 07:42 PM
Shooting chintz from your eyes. Is that anything like having milk come out of your nose?
Posted by: wordgirl | January 17, 2007 at 10:32 PM
When my oldest was just shy of 5 and my second had just turned 3, new neighbors moved in down the block. They had a 6-year-old boy who had called his mother "mom." In less than a heartbeat, my son stopped calling me "Mom-mom" and started calling me "Mom." Thankfully, my 3-year-old daughter was less into appearances than her older brother was and I stayed "Mom-mom" for a bit longer.
Posted by: Patty | January 17, 2007 at 11:38 PM