Mom

Last week, before our trip to Florida, Jack made an important announcement in my car.  Arden, he, and I were on our way to shop for our vacation, I think.  Out of the blue he says matter of factly, “Mommy, can I call you Mom?  I want to call you Mom now.  And I want to call Daddy, Dad.  Is that ok?”

I’m thinking, WTF, my almost 17 year old still calls me Mommy, why the need for my 7 year old {baby}to change?  

Regardless of my opinion, I obliged. The next week was SO WEIRD! We were vacationing with another family who has four kids.  They call their mother, “Mom” as well.  Every time I heard Jack say Mom I wouldn’t answer.  I kept thinking it was a Spafford kid.  Slowly, as the week went on, I got to a point where I realized I was supposed to answer.

Now it’s been more than a week and ten thousand “Mom!”s later, and I still can’t get over it.  And he says it with such confidence, which makes it so funny to hear it come out of his mouth.  “Dad” is just as strange.  Brian and I exchange a look among ourselves when we hear this crazy foreign talk.  

We will slowly.  Very slowly.  Get used to “Mom” and “Dad.”