Being Momma

Last night, ok very early this morning, as I was sitting with YBaby trying to will her to go back to sleep, she looked up at me and smiled and said, “Momma”. Sigh. I love being Momma. OBaby called me Momma for a long time, then it was Mommy, then she moved on to Mom, and now, occasionally, an exasperated “Mother!” But, she never calls me Momma any more. Only YBaby does. I guess it is a baby thing. And I like it. I like the “Momma!” screamed through the house when she is looking for me. I like the “Momma” whispered with a grin when we are being quite. I even like the “Momma” called through sobs with little arms held high for Momma to pick her up. The best Momma, of course, is the running, screaming, feet dancing one I get at the end of a long day when I pick her up from the sitter. I know that some day soon, Momma will give way to Mommy, and that’s nice, too. But there is something special about being Momma. I hope I get to enjoy it for awhile longer.