It’s an instinct. As soon as a woman becomes a mother, she begins to place her lips as though forming an m whenever she’s got her baby’s eye. Babies imitate and by alternating the m formation with exclaiming aaah guarantees that most babies (who by nature make an aaah sound regularly) will begin to press their lips together. At some point shortly thereafter, that baby is going to come out with maaa. It’s a fairly quick step to mama and a tearful woman calling every friend she’s known since pre-school to tell them her baby said mama.
The word mama doesn’t evolve from there for several years, but its intonations shift, giving the word separate meanings. Mama with an interrogatory inflection or a firm declaratory tone followed by a motion is a need. Pick me up, that food or drink I’m pointing to. There’s the sleepy, dreamy, whispered mama when the baby succumbs to slumber. And then there is the maMAAAAA at a decibel level that rivels tornado sirens and brings every mother for a two block radius on the run. It is the cry of fear or pain.
The word will, in some families shift to mommy sometime around school age. Often it is brazenly used with those the child wants to impress, either peers or adults. My mommy says…It is also very commonly heard in a wheedling tone right before the phrase I need a dog costume for tomorrow; or I need a spider diorama by tomorrow; or the ever popular I need 46 cupcakes for tomorrow’s class party.
After mommy, the word slides into its pre-teen version, the more formal MO-ther. When drawled by a female, the word is usually accompanied by an eye roll and possibly folded arms for emphasis. Male children greet any task instructions, mention of parental attendance at school functions, or wanting to meet a prospective playmate’s mother with their rendition of MO-ther that comes with shoulders slumped and head hanging forward and down.
The teen form of the word gets shortened: Ma. Mothers will hear slight echoes of it when the teen enters or leaves as a greeting or good-bye. Most of the sound, however is robbed by the gush of wind as they dash past. It will also be used loudly to communicate from room to room, conserving the teen’s energy. Yelling the word replaces being in the near vicinity.
The word seems to become less frequently used from the late teens. It is replaced by head nods, waves, quick cheek pecks, or some other adaptation of acknowledgement. The young adult, feeling invincible and in charge, has no need for mama, mommy, MO-ther, or even Ma. This point in motherhood embodies an emotional struggle between pride and loss. It’s nice to see them on their way, but every mother wants to feel needed.
But the day will come when the phone will ring or they’ll walk in the door and a single word comes out — Mom. The mother is again needed to heal a heartache, share a triumph, fix a recipe gone wrong, or supply an opinion. Every mother, knowing her child, will know what is needed by the way the word is said.
The circle is complete and the last evolution of the word has appeared.