After hearing “Mom” 5,493 times a day, I sometimes feel a little violent towards the word. I am not angry about BEING a mom, you see, I just feeling like jamming my fingers in my ears and yelling “lalalalalala” to keep from hearing the “M” word one more time. It is similar to when my pager goes off at work, alerting me to my next patient. I love my job and my patients, but sometimes by the end of the day I fantasize about smashing the pager.

Most conversations go like this:

“Mom,” asks the boy.

“Huh,” I respond.

“Mom,” the boy repeats.

“Yeah,” I say, slightly annoyed.

“Moooooom,” says the boy again.

“What? I’m standing right here, what is it that you want to say to me? And why do you keep saying ‘Mom’? I’m the only person in the room. Just speak to me without saying ‘Mom.’

“Mom,” the boys asks. Again.

They really can’t start a sentence without “Mom.” I have watched them try and fail many times.

Why is that? And why do they not recognize that when I say “Huh” and “Yeah,” that I am ready to listen to them? And why do they require that I make eye contact before they will start telling me whatever it is that they want to say? I guess they want my undivided attention, so maybe I should be happy I am that important to them and not be annoyed.

When I really feel like I am going to lose it, I tell the boys I have changed my name to Esmerelda. It is actually far less annoying to hear “Esmerelda” being called from all corners of the house.