For a period of 3 years I did not have my own name, I was mainly known as "Emma's mom".
As in "Hey Emma's mom can I have a popsicle?" or "Excuse me Emma's mom, can we go to the park?"
At first I didn't really even notice it, I was so enamored with the fact that Emma was figuring out the friends thing and branching out into her own relationships. She was effectively navigating her social sphere. (As much as small children have a social sphere)
Then I noticed that I hadn't heard my own name in so long that I didn't turn when it was spoken. I shifted from enamored to annoyed. So we started working on addressing adults properly, for example it was no longer "Kaela's mom", Emma was required to say "Miss Karrie" (good southern manners you know). Problem solved.
Except that now I realize that I kind of miss being called "Emma's mom" by all of our little friends. I miss play dates where I was invited too. I miss children who are not biologically mine calling me mom- because we were communal moms, known only by our greatest calling. A kiss on an owie from whichever mom was closest was repair enough. They were ours and we were theirs, genetics aside. That was the era when I was "Emma's mom" and it was rich and full and good. And I miss it. More than I ever realized I would.