My mackerdoodle is a big girl – just ask her, she’ll tell you. She’s not a baby, she’s a big girl.
My mom is a pet name type of woman. She has called children things like sausage and babe ever since I can remember. My mackerdoodle is taking it personally. “I no a babe! I a big girl!” she started saying to my mom within minutes of them arriving. You can imagine my chagrin, and how it deepened 24 hours later to hear my little girl say to my mom, in her most petulant voice, “NO CALL ME BABE!”
It’s at times like this that my heart swells.
In yet another “oh, really?” moment, I realized I’ve become that mom who expects a higher level of obedience and respect from my daughter when someone else is looking than when it’s just our little brood. I swore I wasn’t going to be that mom. I swore in vain.
I suppose some of it is to be expected. I want people to see the beautiful, fun loving, lovable, appealing side of my children and not the sinful, disobedient, pull-my-hair-out frustrating side of them; but do I want that so that people will love my children, or so that they will think I’m a good mother? I think it’s both and I know that my mother, having already been a mother, knows all of this as well.
So, I’m not going to let my daughter talk to her grandmother that way, not because I’m scared that my mom will think I’m a horrible mother, but because if I *did* let my daughter be so disrespectful, I *would* be a horrible mother. And because my mother loves me and my mackerdoodle, she’s really trying hard not to call her littlest grand daughter babe – because she’s a big girl.