As Meg and Clare became toddlers and then preschoolers, things changed a bit. "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy" is now what I hear when the girls are yelling over one another trying to be heard first. "Mommy" is what I hear when I've spent hours cleaning the house, I am in the middle of cooking dinner, the baby is crying (Anne is our first colicky baby) and one of the girls comes to tell me they've spilled paint all over their room. And then there is the humorous but grating "Mommy...Mommy...Mommy..." with nothing following it (this is usually repeated several times in the course of ten minutes). At times like these I must remind myself that I am lucky to hear the word "Mommy."