Have I mentioned that at some point in the last few months, my kids each decided to start calling me Farrar?* Not all the time, but most of the time and especially in public, around other people. I think they appreciate the clarity involved. Every time I sort of forget about it, and how strange it is, people raise eyebrows again and remind me of it. I talked to each of them about it, but they seem to like it and I don’t actually mind, nor can I think of a compelling reason why they can’t call me by my name. I would be sad if they never said “Mama,” but as they still do sometimes, I think I’m good. As a few people have pointed out, it’s very hippie ’70’s sort of parenting. These days, even the hippies are all “moms,” so perhaps, if it’s not just a phase, then it really is something from another era. But it also may just be a phase. Perhaps, at nearing seven years old, they feel too old for “Mama” and I’ll morph into a “Mom.” Or perhaps I’ll become “Farrar” for them forever and they’ll be off at college explaining to their friends that they just call their mother by her name.