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M y son calls me “Dada.”

Let me just state that I have never been mistaken for a man before: I have longish hair, wear mascara everyday, paint my toenails and have fair features, and look nothing like my husband. We have always made clear reference to me as “Momma” or “Mommy,” but for some reason when either of us prompts him to say “Momma!” Junior will respond with an emphatic “Dada!” every time. 

At first I thought that it was funny, but as the months went by and his vocabulary expanded to include more complicated words that he had heard far less often -- like “daisy” for “oops-a-daisy” and “goro” for “gorilla” -- I started to wonder if I should take it personally. Did he really think I was a man? Or was there another reason?

Are my feminist values in parenting coming back to bite me?

Could it be that my feminist values in parenting were coming back to bite me in my (curvy and feminine) backside? His father and I always try to model equality in our relationship and parenting, sharing chores and child care. Is it possible that Junior sees us not as two unique individuals but rather as equal parental units? Or is it that he simply finds “Dada” easier to say?

Perhaps I could do like some people do when they find that their sense of authority has been threatened and blame it on the corruptive influence of a book! One of his favourite books, What does Baby Do? has a page that reads, “Daddy goes to work.  What does Baby do?  Baby blows a kiss.” In our household, however, it's Mommy who goes to work and Daddy stays home to do the laundry and watch the baby and do the errands and wipe soggy Cheerios off the furniture in our house. That still doesn't explain why my husband gets the accurate title and I don't. 

Whatever the reason, I guess I’m proud to be a “Dada” -- I find myself in pretty good company. And I know that he’ll eventually sort it out, and I’ll finally become Mama to him.  There aren’t many 40-year-old men out there who a) can't tell the difference between his parents, b) can’t hold his own bottle or c) still pee on the bathroom floor in that split-second between taking his clothes off and getting into the tub. And if that turns out to be the case with Junior, I'll just let his other Dada deal with it.

Author update

This just in: Jack finally has a “Mummeee!” It’s official! The cries of “Mummee! Mummee!” now greet me when I come home. I have no idea what finally brought it out, but he seems to get it now. He has a “Dada” and a “Mummy.”  I’ve never felt so proud. Now if we can just get him to hold his own bottle and stop peeing on the floor...