There's something comforting about being called "Mommy."

I'm very aware that I'm not going to get to be Mommy forever. Eventually I'll be "Mom," assuming that my kids don't decide they want to call me by my first name. Even though I know "Mommy" is usually just the first word in a request (i.e., "Mommy, can you ...), I realize that I'm lucky to be a mommy at all.

That's why it was a little weird when my 4-year-old started calling me "Mama." I have no idea where she got it from. All I know is that I felt a shift in my identity when she started moving away from calling me Mommy.

"Mama" has been an irregular fit. It's too homey for this frazzled single mom. To me, the word evokes the image of kitchens and housecoats and everything cozy about motherhood that I don't provide. It makes me feel like my daughter expected me to be something I wasn't.

In my insecurity, I steered her away from the whole mama thing. Now it tends to slip out only when she's feeling tired or needy and she's looking for a cuddle or a hug. I can handle that.

What I'm finding more difficult to cope with is her new name for me: "MOTHER!!!"

I've always thought of "mother" as a title, as in, "I have a mother and I call her 'Mom.' " It's not that I mind if my kids refer to me as their mother. They should, really, since it's more proper. However, I'd prefer them to drop the formality with me. I want to be a mommy — you know, a lady with a lap.

My daughter didn't start calling me "Mother" to be formal, though. She uses the word in that demanding, foot-stomping, listen-to-me type of way. Her tone suggests she's somebody and I'm just barely worthy of her notice, like a silly little servant or (gasp!) a mother hen.

It's really, really, really irritating!!!

All I can do about the whole "mother" thing is try to steer her back toward "mommy," which she seems willing to consider when she's not feeling ornery.

Last night, for example, when she wanted some company going to bed, it was "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy" all night long. I thought — foolishly — that my problem was over.

Then I accidentally left a pair of her shoes at home this morning and got a disdainful, "Mother, you forgot my Crocs," as a reprimand. I guess she really does mean it to be as insulting as it feels.

I ignored her impertinence as I slid a different pair of shoes onto her feet.

She rewarded me with a "Thank you, Mommy."

Ah, bliss.

Reach Treena Shapiro at tshapiro@honoluluadvertiser.com.