The door to my daughter's teen cave opened with an ominous creak.
I saw this from the corner of my eye. I was in the master bedroom, multi-tasking: folding clothes, listening to music, and quasi-dancing to earn steps in my weekly Fitbit challenge.
The daughter inched closer and stuck her head in the door.
"That song is on my playlist," she said, sounding puzzled, looking at my phone.
Uh-oh. Not good. ONE TIME, about FIVE YEARS ago, I made the mistake of alluding to a song she liked that was playing on the car radio. "We use that in Jazzercise," I said innocently. Had I looked into the rear view mirror, I would have seen her face frozen into a mask of horror. She later informed me she had been permanently scarred.
I don't even take Jazzercise anymore. (And there isn't anything wrong with it. It was fun.)
But it doesn't matter.
Semantics matter. She's a teen. I'm a mom. Not mommy. Mom.
I used to "mommy blog." But I stopped. It seemed stupid. My kids were older; I wasn't really a mommy anymore, was I? It had been fun. But that ship had sailed.
"You could 'family blog,' " my husband suggested. Hmmm. Wait.
I could, couldn't I?
Semantics. Maybe that's the key.
After all, I used to be a features writer. Now I'm a "content creator."
I still get paid to write.
Semantics. Mommy, mom, content, articles .... It is, in the end, all just a manner of speaking.
Words matter, of course - just ask my daughter. But as we all know, actions matter more.
"Okay," she said doubtfully, looking at my phone. "I guess you can listen to it." She looked up at me pleadingly. "But .... just don't dance."