There’s an unsettling feeling that washes over me whenever I hear the word “Mama.” It’s akin to the discomfort of nails on a chalkboard or the screech of a fork against a plate. In a word? Cloying. That’s how I’d describe it.
Every night, I offer silent thanks to the parenting deities for allowing me to leap straight from “Mama” to “Mom,” bypassing “Mama” altogether.
My aversion is perplexing. I hear “Mama” echoing throughout the parenting world, and it doesn’t faze me in the slightest. Yet, when it comes from my own children, it sends shivers down my spine. For me, “Mama” and whining trigger the same instinctive reaction: If you don’t cut it out now, you might just witness a meltdown.
My kids are well aware of this quirk and use it to their advantage. When they’re being cheeky, seeking something, or trying to earn the title of Most Annoying Child of the Year, they opt for “Mama” knowing it’ll grab my attention.
Imagine them saying, in their most irritating voices:
“Oops, Mama, I just had to fart!”
“Mama, can we have M&M’s for breakfast?”
“Come on, Mama, just one more minute!”
This tactic doesn’t always yield results, but it sure does tighten my jaw.
Please, don’t call me Mama.
It feels overly sweet, like syrup dripping off pancakes. It carries an air of condescension and comes with cultural baggage I struggle to shake off.
Let’s rewind to the infamous movie Mommie Dearest that left many kids traumatized in the ‘80s. When I think of “Mama,” Joan Crawford’s intense eyebrows flash through my mind – and trust me, they’re terrifying.
“Mama” lacks seriousness. It’s a term that belongs on a novelty onesie or a Precious Moments figurine, often associated with matching outfits for mothers and daughters. There’s a silliness to it that makes it easily disregarded.
A mama might give you a hug and tell you how special you are, but she’s not the one who lays down the law like a proper mother does. She doesn’t set boundaries like your mom will.
I embody many things, but sweet and wholesome? Not a chance. I can cuddle and share a laugh, but more often than not, I’m all about the “get it together” approach.
So, if you’re craving M&M’s for breakfast—an idea I won’t completely dismiss—here’s my advice: don’t call me Mama.
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Summary
The author reflects on their discomfort with being called “Mama,” finding it overly sweet and condescending. They explain that while they embrace the joyful aspects of parenting, they prefer a more straightforward approach. The piece humorously delves into the dynamics between mother and child, emphasizing the importance of setting boundaries while navigating the challenges of motherhood.
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