Three years ago, my vocabulary was entirely different than
it is today. I’m not just talking about “bad words,” which are definitely a
no-no with a parroting young lady following me around, but also the words I use
in everyday life. I mean, I just used “no-no” in a serious sense. Did you even
catch it? If not, you must be a mom (or dad!) too. I never thought I’d be one
of those moms, and yet, here I am.
Mom terminology (mom-inology) has taken hold of me full-force—and if I’m
totally honest, I think it’s kind of cute. Kind of.
At some point between giving birth and taking our daughter
home from the hospital, word substitutions started to occur. At first, they
were on purpose. No one wants to talk to their newborn in a coherent manner,
right? That’s boring. It also lacks that special “Mom” feeling that I looked
forward to for nine semi-miserable months. So instead, I subbed potty for
toilet, “dipey” for diaper, and bunny for rabbit. My sleepy newborn didn’t seem
to mind, or even know what was going on, for that matter. I took this as
encouragement to continue building my mom-inology.
I’m only a little embarrassed to admit that no-no and dipey
weren’t the worst of it. I started developing an entire language to share with
my daughter. Snacks became “snicky-snacks” or “snickety-snacketies” if I felt
like adding a few extra syllables, which I often did, and occasionally still
do. The new word for kittens was fuzz-bumpkins (it rolls off your tongue,
right?) and “wunchy” for lunch. I know, even for my standards, those two are a
little weird.
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| Our fuzz-bumpkin, who apparently loves his daddy |
If I’m totally honest about the mom-inology phenomenon, I
guess I got roped in because of the feeling of closeness and exclusiveness it
brings. It’s a secret code that you share with your child. Others don’t always
understand it, and that makes it special. It’s something you’ve done since
their weight could be measured with a single digit (jealous, much?) and it
helps you pretend they’re still little-bitty-tiny (another favorite made-up
term). It’s more for us parents than it is for the child. And come on, if we’re
dedicating most of our waking lives to our children, waking up in the
wee-morning hours, making their food, teaching them letters and numbers, and
doctoring their boo-boos, can’t we at least have this? This one, small thing?
All joking aside, I understand the importance of teaching
your children real words, and not made-up mommy-dreamland ones. It’s fun while
they’re little, but little minds are the most impressionable. They take all
their cues from us. No pressure, though, right? Sometimes, we make up words
because we don’t want to use the actual ones. They seem rude, somehow. If
you’ve ever made up a name for your child’s body parts, you know what I mean.
Somehow, even with all the so-called language misguidance on
my part, my daughter ended up talking like a normal person. Actually, more like
a person with an advanced English degree. There were times when, as a tiny
toddler, she would give me a serious look and correct my usage. “It’s called a
cat, or a kitten, not a fuzz-bumpkin, Mama.” This is the part where I cry a
little. Not only because I’m sad she’s growing up so fast, but also because
fuzz-bumpkin is my preferred term for kitties. And maybe because I’m a little
worried she’s already smarter than me.
