A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME

Every night with out fail, after we've put the boys to bed they come down to our room and need something.  I know who it is before they come into our room because of the title they use for me.  Blane says "mommy," and I'll no doubt die a little the day he stops, and starts calling me "mom."  Tobin says "mama," in his husky, distinct little voice.  I love that they each call me something different.  It fits their personalities.  Tonight as I type this, I can distinctly hear each of them calling me in my mind.  I can only hope that I'll never loose the sweet sound of their little voices calling to/for me.