The rules are there are no rules anymore
When I was a child I assumed I would grow up to be Mrs. Someone. Fill-in-the-blank with the name of the man I marry.
So when I married my husband I assumed I would be Mrs. Cheek. Mrs. Cheek the teacher. Mrs. Cheek in the neighborhood with the kids. But I opted out of a career in public education and much to my surprise, kids in the neighborhood don't always call adults by a title anymore.
Sometimes this feels sad to me. I have fond memories of Mrs. Alder who helped raise me in my neighborhood. Sometimes this feels like progress. Children are being seen and heard, their voices in the circles of our modern villages are on par with the adults around them.
But what I am called is my choice and I still need to make it.
How about you?
This post is not here to tell you what to do, this post is here to nudge you to think about it if you haven't, to be honest about what you prefer, and to be bold about asking people–both younger and older–to call you whatever it is.
Even if no one else is doing it.
Because the most important thing is that when a child calls for you, you answer. And you feel good about it.
It's like personal growth and stuff.