So last night we had our first name confusion, which I’m sure is just one of many to come. Surprisingly it wasn’t over Ken or Kenneth or Kenny. It was over who I was referring to when I said sweetie.
In the middle of the night last night, Kenny was crying. I was trying to calm him down, so I said, “You’re okay, sweetie.” Ken suddenly sat up in bed and innocently pointed at himself and said, “Me?” To which I said no. He then shrugged his shoulders, turned his back to me, and fell back asleep. Oh the joys of sleep talking. Such entertainment at 2:00 am.
Also, reality check:
The other day I got a phone call, and the person on the other line said, “Are you Kenneth’s mother?” So weird to hear that. I have finally gotten use to being called mom, but to hear that I was Kenneth’s mother? Strange. I am someone’s mother.