Mama

That's me, according to Grace. As a toddler she called me Muma, which was entirely adorable, and I was terribly sad when she stopped. Then I became Mommy and, on occasion, Mom or MO-OM! And now, well now, she's been in Kindergarten for almost an entire year, surrounded by middle Georgians and a teacher whose accent could peel paint, therefore I am Mama with a capital M!

And that's not even the worst of it. While in Charleston, Sarah confirmed that I too have a southern accent. I no longer say "my", it's "mah" instead. And ya'll rolls off my tongue with frightening regularity. This from the person who never wanted to have a yooper accent. Crap. I either need to embrace this or run like hell.

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On Friday, I went to Julia's school for a Mother's Day Tea. The kids made us hats, decorated mugs and placemats, and constructed mommy look-alikes. Mine has enjoyed hanging around the house. She relaxes on the couch.



And works on the computer (she doesn't have hands, so using the keyboard is tough). I particularly love the hair (I have no idea where they found so many old cassette tapes). The earring are nice, and I do look good in yellow. My favorite part is the smile, which Julia drew herself, and on the back are the words: "Julia says she loves her mommy because she plays with me."

Mama, Mommy, MO-OM--whatever they want to call me, I'll take it.