“Mommy!”

The most common word said in my house. Probably.

“Mommy!” 

Excited, shouting, seeing me for the first time in the morning. “Can you take me to Gan?”, “Can you do my braids?”, “Can you bring the stroller?”

“Mommy!”, 

Yelling, annoyed, asking to be picked up. To be put on a lap. To be held while I eat.

“Mommy!”

Whining, impatient, demanding a snack. One snack, then a new snack. And some of my food too. 

“Mommy!” 

Asking for more screen time. “A different one”, “I want it again”, “I want something else”.

“Mommy!” 

A different snack this time, the others laying on the floor, untouched. “A whole cookie, not broken!”, “I want different food”, “Let me show you what I want”.

“Mommy!”

Enough times that might drive anyone up the wall, but where the word almost starts to lose its meaning. Almost, but I don’t actually tire from it.

“Mommy!” 

I smile. “Play with me mommy”. And I do. 

“Mommy!”

“I want you!” I’m here. 

“Mommy!”

“Look at my tower!”, “see what I made!”, “watch me, Mommy!” Beautiful, incredible, wonderful. 

“Mommy!” 

Through tears, after falling down, tripping, or doing something dangerous that I said not to. And I hug away the pain, wipe away the tears, and kiss it all better.

“Mommy!”

Sobbing, in the middle of the night. And I lay them down in bed and stay until they fall asleep.

“Mommy!”

“I love you!” And I love you. 

When my children look at me, they see “Mommy!” What my children see is simple. They see not what the doctors see, or what the physical therapist sees. Not what the cashier sees, not what the parents at the park see. All they see is “Mommy!”

“Mommy!” 

Love. 

“Mommy!” 

Comfort.

“Mommy!” 

Consistent. 

“Mommy!” 

Laughter. 

“Mommy!” 

Always. 

“Mommy!” 

Never changes, is there for them day after day. Stressed out, sad, excited, happy, angry, tired, hopeful, it’s all “Mommy!”

The special bond between mother and child, the bond that gives them the comfort of wiping their dirty face and hands on my dress, is all they see when they look at me. And when I wipe away those tiny, sticky fingerprints at the end of the day, I’m reminded of what they see after a day of calling “Mommy!”.