That’s the sound I wake up to every morning. Before this phase, we would most often be awakened by screaming. There was no snooze button on Abigail’s internal alarm clock. I prefer this new way. It’s softer, sweeter, and actually makes me get out of bed faster. Maybe it’s something about her needing to know that I’m around, that I hear her. She says it like a question. “Mommy?” Are you there?
It makes me bolt out of bed and hurry. Yes. I’m right here.
It’s not just in the morning, she “Mommy’s” all day long. There’s excited to see me “Mommy!” and the hysterical “MOMMY!” if she’s been hurt. “Mommy, hand” when she wants to play or have a snack or show me something. And my favorite, “Mommy, cozy” for cuddles.
Sometimes it feels like a finger poking me all day. Sometimes I want to say, “What?!” “What is it now?” or “Enough already!” I’m human.
I try not to because right now she’s my biggest fan. I realize what a prize it is to be handed this award. But I’m not so naive to believe it will always be this way. It won’t be. Down the road is Amazing, her best friend. And Ms. Fantastic, the coolest teacher ever. And, please no, but probably, Shiny Superstar, the latest and greatest Disney star. There will be all of these other people that she looks up to and wants to be like and hang out with. I hope they really are as great as she thinks they are, but I can’t control all of that.
What I want is for her to have this strong foundation of love and support and self worth. You are loved. You are important. We trust you. I want her to have all of this before we are cheering her on from the sidelines. I want to give her this now so that it’s our voices she hears the clearest from afar. Maybe this will help soften the eventual blows and falls that come from that outside world. The ones you can’t control despite being crowned “Best Mommy Ever” by your adoring fan for your brief reign during her toddler years.
Her hair can go in a high pony now and she says Elmo instead of “Baboo.” Small changes, really, but signs of what’s to come. I’m pretty sure that the high pony alone is an indication that exasperated, annoyed, and embarrassed “Mom”s will be added to her vocabulary.
I’m going to let the “exasperated, annoyed, and embarrassed-by-her-Mom Abigail” go on down the road a
little lot — like to the point where Amazing, Ms. Fantastic, and Shiny Superstar can be there to help deal with all of that.
For now I’m going to just cruise along proudly wearing the glittering tiara Abigail has so graciously given me — even if wearing this crown means nothing more than I win a whole lot of poking, food stealing, and repetitive singing.
I’m totally okay with that.
Right now, in her mind, we are all she needs. We are enough.
And that makes being “Mommy” enough.