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Maybe it’s because I’ve lost most of my IQ since being pregnant, but I’ve had my moments that for the life of me, I can’t remember my name.  It really hasn’t mattered except when I need to fill out paper work.  I’m the administrator in the family.

Maybe it’s because for the last three months, I’ve been talking about myself in the third person.  “Momma’s going to change your diaper.  Momma’s gonna give you a bath, Momma’s about to have a nervous break down, etc”.

Maybe it’s because my husband refers to me now as “Your mother”. 

Maybe it’s because everyone else refers to me as “Erin’s Mom”

My husband, what’s his name, says not to fight it.  Fighting it just makes it worse.  He has promised to put me in a nice home.  Like I’ll know the difference.  Oh, that’s right.  His name is Daddy.

There is a precedent for this in my family.  My Mother (Her name I remember.  It’s Mom.) told me a story about how on the first day of school, the teacher asked for her Mother’s name (I know that name, too.) and my Mother replied, “Momma” (Wrong!  It’s Grandma!).

So, I know that my name could either be, Momma, Your Mother or Erin’s Mother.  It seems pretty interchangeable, since I’ll answer to any of those.

Telemarketers don’t like it when I answer the phone with a very businesslike, “This is Momma”.  The conversation goes something like this:

“This is Momma.”

“Is the lady of the house home?”

“Momma’s home.”

“May I speak with her?”

“Momma doesn’t want to talk right now.”

“I’ll call another time, then.”

“Momma’s getting caller ID, so good luck.”

Anyway, if you see me on the rare occasion that I’m out and about, if I don’t immediately respond to the name that you know me by, try “Yo Momma!”.  Just don’t be surprised to see thirty other women respond.