From ‘Mummy’ to ‘Mum’

Louise McCourt - 24 Aug 16

I forget where we were when my daughter first called me mum. What I don’t forget is immediately recoiling at the very use of the word. A word I hadn’t really contemplated before. Without thinking I said, ‘It’s mummy, not mum. I’m not ready for mum.’ I saw a woman standing nearby, staring. Did she think; I can see where she’s coming from, or (and this is more likely remembering the look on her face), what a strange thing to say to a child.

When it came up again, I simply echoed, ‘I’m not ready for mum.’ My daughter didn’t question me further, but did say that other children said ‘mum’. I ended the conversation by saying, ‘Year 3, that’s when you can call me mum’. For me this seemed reasonable. She would be going into Junior School, and three quarters of the way to the magic double figures.

I think there is a time when mummy should become mum, when mummy doesn’t sound right any more. But that day, standing there with my five year old wasn’t it. Mum just didn’t seem right. It wasn’t the right job description. How can I explain…

When you’re someone’s mummy, you’re needed all the time. At bedtime, you don’t just tuck your child in, you’re reading them stories as well. Mummy instinctively reaches out for their child’s hand as you both head towards a road, unless of course those hands are already clasped together. Mummy lets them try her make up on, but almost as quickly wants to wash it off – your little face looked so much more beautiful before. In my case, you’re mimicking their beloved puppet rabbit, talking in that special voice so she and ‘Miss Bunny’ can reminisce about their days.

Mum is still needed, but the job is changing. Mum doesn’t read bedtime stories, they are read on their own. Mum’s hand is now empty (she may even be asked to walk a few steps in front or behind). Mum’s make up will start to slowly disappear, to be added to their collection. Mum will be asked for money, but without a lengthy negotiation of how it can come off this weeks pocket money, and next.

However, there will be glimpses of the child who once called you mummy. The hand holding may have stopped, but in time your arms will be linked instead. The tea parties might be over, but you can curl up with real cups of tea (and wine eventually!). And for me, you never know, she might even hand me that toy rabbit again one day and say ‘Do the voice mum.’

A few years ago, I don’t know when or why, I started to call my Mum mummy again. Not in public, but when I phoned her or went round for a visit. Maybe I thought she would like it, but really I liked it. I think subconsciously I wanted to remind us of our early relationship, remind her that she was still so needed. With this in mind, as I ponder the looming transition from mummy to mum, I have come to one conclusion. All is not lost.

Back to the present day, it is now the summer holidays before Year 3. The other day, my husband and daughter were talking as they headed out for a bike ride, ‘on our way home, we’ll get some milk for mum,’ my husband said. ‘For mummy!’ I blurted out.

If I play my cards right, maybe I can stretch this out to Year 4…

Louise McCourt

Mummy of two and freelance writer. My words have made people laugh, cry and be inspired - it doesn't get much better than that.

View profile for posts, events and more info