My name is Mommy

Before I got pregnant, I dreamed of having a little baby who would grow to call me Mommy. There is something special about the name Mommy. It's lovely and gentle and I find comfort in the word. After Sophia was born, I worked endlessly trying to get her to say Mommy. She said Daddy first. Mommy didn't happen until many months later. It took Sophia so long to say Mommy that I actually suspected she could say it, but simply refused. She has been known to be a bit, um, stubborn.

Eventually, my wish came true and the name Mommy flowed from her lips like the song I knew it would be. Then she learned how to scream and yell. MOMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY MOMMY could be heard from 6 a.m. until 7:30 p.m. every. single. day.

Every morning on the way to daycare, Sophia and I have this exact conversation until I get fed up and just turn up the radio.

Sophia: Mommy!

Me: What?

S: Mommy!

M: What?

S: Mommy!

M: Sophie

S: Mommy!

M: Sophie

S: Mommy!

M: What?

S: Mommy!

M: Can I help you?

S: Mommy!

M: Mommy disappeared.

Like all good things, though, there is an end. When I picked up Sophia from daycare yesterday she called me MOM for the very first time. She said it like she was testing it, gauging my reaction and trying to figure out if she should use it again.

I go potty, Mom.

I watch TV, Mom.

I want to eat, Mom.

Mom.

Mom!

MOM!

By bedtime last night, I was officially Mom no matter how many times I told her my name was Mommy. When she woke this morning, I was still Mom.

I don't really like Mom. I prefer Mommy. I always knew she would start calling me Mom someday, but I figured I'd get at least a few years out of Mommy before she got too cool for it.

Sigh. It seems I've gotten 25 months out of Mommy with Sophia.

Lessons learned from motherhood

Before I had children I never knew how much strength it takes to be a mom. It's strength that's needed in all its glorious forms: physical, mental and emotional. There is no amount of training that can prepare you for motherhood.

When Ryan was in the hospital with RSV, it took all the strength I had not to completely freak out. Sitting in the hospital holding my then-4-month-old son, counting his breathes and watching his chest cave in with every breath was the hardest thing I ever had to do. It took every ounce of strength not to break down in tears. I needed to remain calm, I needed to be strong for my son. I needed to project calm feelings to keep him calm. It wouldn't do anyone any good to have a screaming, tense baby and a screaming tense mom.

Before I was a mom, I never knew real fear. Sure, I've been scared, but it was nothing compared to the overwhelming emotion that takes over every thought and movement when it comes to my children.

I've had nightmares, in fact I had one last night, about my children being in danger. Last night I jumped out of bed and called my husband's name as I ran down the hall to my daughter's bedroom. In my dream, Sophia was sitting at the kitchen table having dinner and she started choking. Her face turned blue and, in my dream and in real life, I jumped up to save her. My husband woke up to the sound of me jumping out of bed and yelling his name. I still haven't fully explained my dream to him because I couldn't bring myself to talk about it last night.

Sometimes fear can take over and make me not want to leave the house. Here is this tiny, helpless child who I protected in my womb for 40 long weeks, when all of a sudden, there she is, exposed to all the elements. After the birth of each of my children, I became completely consumed, I would say fiercely consumed, with the need to protect them.

Before I was a mother, there were so many things that I didn't know about myself. I didn't know I was capable of functioning with little to no sleep. I didn't know I could love the smell of little baby feet or baby hair. I didn't know how calm I could be and how quick I could react. I didn't understand what a mother's instinct was, until I had it.

Most importantly, before I was a mom I never really understood my own mom. Becoming a mother has given me an insight to her that I could never have know before I had children of my own.

I am so thankful that my children have given me the opportunity to be their mother.

Family fun

I wasn't sure I'd have a good time at the Bon Jovi concert last night, but I did and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

My mom and sister are huge Bon Jovi fans. I liked him when I was 10 or 12, but honestly, if the song isn't on the "Slippery When Wet" album, I don't know it.

For the past several years, when Bon Jovi goes on tour and stops in Philadelphia, my mom and sister go to see him. This year they invited me and I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to hang out with my mom and sister in the most unusual setting I could imagine the two of them being in together as adults.

Formal American Idol cast off Chris Daughtry opened the show and he was entertaining, but not jump-out-of-your seat fun. I was afraid this had set the mood for the evening.

I wanted to have a good time and during Chris Daughtry's performance I realized that just because I am not a huge Bon Jovi fan didn't mean I couldn't have a good time at a Bon Jovi concert. It didn't matter that I thought the idea of going to a Bon Jovi concert was a little cheesy, I was surrounded by people who really liked him and didn't know me and wouldn't laugh at me for dancing and singing because they were all doing the same thing.

When Bon Jovi got on stage, everyone jumped out of their seats and started yelling, singing and dancing, including me, my mom and my sister. And for the rest of the night I had a really great time. The concert was filled with Bon Jovi standards that I remembered from my 12-year-old big hair days so I was able to sing along with the best of Bon Jovi fans. Of course, they played newer songs that I didn't know, but it didn't matter.

The show was fun, but the best part of the whole night was that I got to hang out with my sister and mom in a way that under normal circumstances would never happen. I hope that when my own children are grown I will be able to do this kind of thing with them and we have as much fun as we did last night.

When you're younger, you take your family for granted. If I was a teenager I would have been totally embarrassed about being at a concert with my family. But when you get older and have children of your own, you realize how special your family really is. It's more important to me now that I have a strong relationship with my family so that my own children can experience that sense of love and security among people who love them. And that includes being able to act like a crazy Bon Jovi fan, even if it was just for one night.

The concert may not have turned me into a Bon Jovi fan, but I hope he comes back to Philly next year because next year we want to get floor seats.