Exterior Beach – Twilight. Mother’s POV.  Little boy, about the age of  three,  falls forward. He lands on the sand face first and cries. Mother runs toward the child arms out stretched. She reaches the boy and bends down to lift him in to her arms. Boy turns, reaches upward looking just past her and yells plaintively, “Mommie!”  POV changes to father standing to the right of and behind mother. Both parents yell in unison “That’s daddy!”

Here’s the situation – I am “Ba” to our son and my husband is “Mommie”. I spend hours a day with him alone. I tend to his every need – unless Project Runway is on – and I am an in-articulated word and my husband is a fully articulated “Mommie”.

Does it bother me? Yes, sometimes it bothers me. Oh, sure, I am gratified by the stories of other mothers who tell me about how “Daddies rule and mommies drool”. I have been told on more than one occasion that no matter how much mothers do daddies are the real deal.

My husband is supportive of the dilemma by consistently correcting him. This may be in part because he wants to be called “Daddy” and not “Mommie”. That’s a whole other issue, right?

Why is it so important to me to be “mommie”? Why do I need to hear that word? It’s just a word.  OK, it feels like more than just a word.

The real question might be why is it so important to T. not to call me that? A few people have suggested he is playing me and that he knows what is what. Could be. But, what if it’s because he has had three mothers – two are gone and this is his first dad. What if he knows mommies go away and maybe daddies stay? What if he is trying to figure this whole thing out?

What if it’s nothing? Better yet, what if I get over it and remember the important thing is that we all love each other.