Not the Momma

Boo is really good about not slipping up and calling me “Mom.” Admittedly, my name is a bit tough for the average kidlet to pronounce, but this kid has better diction than I do and says my name quite clearly.  (Aside: The first time he said my name was on my birthday; the kid has it going on.) Anyway, while Boo might not call me “Mommy,” the rest of the world sure is picking up the slack on that one.  I am mistaken for his mom at least once per day, and often more…and often by the same people.  It’s not that Boo isn’t great (he is) and when I have my own (eventual) kids, I’d be a-ok with them being like Boo – particularly that part where he was potty trained at twenty-one months.  But, Boo is NOT my kid and it really shouldn’t be that hard for people to deduce. Here are some tips that they could pick up on:

1.) Um, we look nothing alike.  I want to caveat this by saying I’m glad that people do not automatically assume he is not my child due to the appearance thing, as adoptive mothers are absolutely mothers.  (Likewise with adoptive fathers.  Love makes a family; love is thicker than blood, etc.)  Boo is multiracial; I share in none of his cultural backgrounds.  I’m the person whose ancestors have managed to defy the concept of “melting pot” – my forbearers emigrated from a total of two countries – countries that are not only part of the same continent, but the same region of the same continent and way back, one even went so far as to invade (and rule for a time, with the typical intermarriages) the other…until they were kicked out.  In addition to not sharing any coloring or features, Boo also dresses much nicer than I do.  Most of my clothes are older than he is and most of his pants retail for more than an entire outfit of mine would – even at current prices.

2.) Boo calls me by my first name.  Remember he has that diction beyond his years.  My first name sounds ABSOLUTELY NOTHING like any traditional, non-traditional, or created-cutesy term for mothers.  But!  You know what it does sound like?  About half a dozen really common first names.  On the occasion that Boo slips and calls me “Mommy” – or anything of that genre – I always immediately ask him what my name is.  And then he remembers and tells me, in case I forgot too.

3.) We talk about his mom – and his dad – thus abating any confusion that he is from a household of two mommies or that I am his mommy.  Well, unless I have some sort of severe mental illness, where I talk about myself, in the third person, as though I’m somewhere else – such as at work, missing the child with whom I am actively conversing.  I’ve seen enough Elmo’s World that it would be feasible for me to start talking like that, except for that part where if that ever actually happened, I would be forced to eat my hand.  I doubt many people approach the mommy with the gnawed off hand.


2 Responses to “Not the Momma”

  1. January 24, 2010 at 3:38 pm

    I love that you are so amazing with Boo and able to constantly make sure he knows you are there to love him, but not his Mommy. I am sure that is well appreciated at his home as well. Kudos to you!

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