I keep meaning to "capture" this little memory but forgetting...
When I started this blog, and was not feeling much creativity when it came to finding an appropriate title, I chose "Life as MommyMo" because I just LOVED the fact that Sam would ask for more kisses by saying "Mommy... MO!"
That phase didn't last much longer once he figured out to say more than a word or two, but I kind of liked remembering it every time I logged on to blog something new.
Well... Lo and behold, Sam actually called me "Mommy Mo" the other day. I'm fairly certain he hasn't been reading my blog, so it's not like he hears that combination of nonsense words anymore, but nonetheless, that's what he started calling me. It took me a day or two to figure it out, but I think I've figured out why the name has resurfaced.
Around the same time that Sam started with the kissy "Mommy...MO" requests, we gave Rob a shirt for Father's Day (2005) that has Snoopy on it and says "One Cool Daddy-o." A bit corny, but Rob had officially been a dad for just five days when the gift was given. It seemed perfect at the time because Rob was a huge Peanuts fan as a kid and we attempted to find decor that would allow us to decorate Sam's room with Snoopy as the Flying Ace. No luck, so he just had airplanes!
Anyway, for two years now, we've been referring to Daddy as "Daddy-o" at our house. Sam also started calling me "Mommy-o" not too long ago, then decided to add "o" to almost everything he said. That apparently got boring after a day or two, so he started learning to rhyme, toddler style. Somewhere along the line, he morphed all of that into calling me "MommyMo." As fast as he's growing up, it's so fun to be reminded of some of the babyish things he used to do!
Sam pretty regularly shows us how he's maturing. Rob and I went with my mom to the Farm to Fork dinner at Tortilla Press tonight (a belated Mother's Day dinner from my Mom to me and, as she also put it, a reason to celebrate a clean CT scan. She looks for any reason to celebrate!) Rob's mom was here to babysit. They played for a long time, and little Sam was tuckered out. When Nana went to put him to bed, he pretty much kissed her goodnight, then dismissed her to go let the dogs in! He heard them scratching and told her that she'd "better go take care of Frankie now, Nana. He wants to come inside." He used to whine and find a billion reasons to have us come back to his room, but after sending Nana on her merry way, he tucked himself in and went right to sleep... No more baby!
Thursday, July 12, 2007
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