My name is Mommy

Last night was a rough night.  Julia has started waking up and when she wakes up, she wakes her brother up and he will come bursting into the room informing us that she is going "waaaaa, waaaa."  Dude, we know, we hear her.  So last night we went through the same routine, she starts crying, Jack gets up, I go in there to comfort her, which works until I try to leave and one of my old bones makes a creaking sound and she realizes I am leaving so we start all over again.  Well, I did some back and forth with the kids.  Julia was in here with us and then it was Jack and I was sandwiched in the middle unable to go back to sleep.  I flipped around for what seemed like hours, actually I'm pretty sure that it was hours.  So when it was actually time to get up I was exhausted and didn't want to move.  Jack came in the room to inform me that Julia wanted out of her bed, but I figured she was OK for five more minutes.  I mean, good grief, she kept me up most of the night, surely she could grant me five minutes.  She did, but I was heart broken to hear her calling, Ammmmmy, Ammmmmy, Ammmmmy."  Not Mommy, Amy.  I don't want to be called Amy by my children.  I want to be called Mommy.  Is that too much to ask?  I don't have a lot of wishes, well, sure I do, but it is the little things that I really want and I want my children to call me Mommy.

This little person is too LITTLE to be calling me Amy.  She will always, always be too little.