Married life: Those three words that my baby won’t say

Once a child starts talking, all a mother wants to hear are the three magic words: I love you, if only to make up for the sleepless nights and dirty diapers.

A good friend's adorable little boy has gone ahead and done the one thing that makes all the ­trials and tribulations of motherhood worth it. ­Meaningfully, and with full awareness, he told his mother that he loved her.
To hear her tell it, it was a life-altering, wondrous, heady moment. Her little boy grabbed the sides of her face with his sticky, grubby, tiny hands and told her, clearly and articulately: "I love you." Better yet, the unprompted ­expression of love was delivered voluntarily; the emotion seemed to strike him out of the blue and he just had to let his mother know.
I, of course, curled up and died of jealousy. Ever since, I have been on Baby A's case, nagging her to become a bit more generous with her words and tell me that she loves me, to absolutely no avail. It is absolutely infuriating, because that kid is not even 2 years old and can already speak in complete sentences; she is all "want water ­bottle". But the three little words that I've been longing to hear? Nothing.
"Do you love mama?" I ask her. "Yes!" she tells me. Wonderful, we're halfway there.
"So say 'I love you'," I beg her.
"No!" she says.
"Say 'I love mama'," I implore.
"No want. Stop it," she growls at me. I plead and cajole, and the outcome? I've never been so pointedly ignored in my life.
If there's one thing that will unite mothers across the world, it's their desperate need to hear baby say "mama". Once that milestone is reached, we are sick with the desire to hear baby say "I love you." Those three simple words will make all those sleepless nights, all those moments of projectile vomiting, all those dirty nappies, all those mounds of laundry, worth it. Once those words are forthcoming, those babies will truly have all the power of the world in their tiny fists. That kid can boss me around as much as she likes, if only she'd tell me she loves me.
It's not unlike the start of a relationship, when you're dating someone you care about, but haven't yet heard those three little words that will make it safe for you to scream from the rooftops that you're head over heels. You look for signs, you conduct careful analysis of every gesture, every expression, every conversation, but nothing will provide the corroborated proof that you are loved like hearing the straightforward words, "I love you." It felt pretty great to hear Mr T say those words to me all those centuries ago. I'm going to go ahead and assume it will feel a million times better when Her Dictatorship decides to take pity on me and tell me what I want to hear.
I know she knows what it means. I overheard her ­kissing her beloved Hippo. "Hippo love, Hippo love," she said, while I shamelessly eavesdropped. And I also know she is seasoned in the art of manipulation, which means she is well aware I'll do pretty much anything to hear her tell me she loves me. So why is she making me work so hard, and wait so long?
I find consolation in the fact that she has not, as far as I know, told Mr T that she loves him, yet. Because if that kid of mine decides to say "I love you" to her father ­before she says it to me, I will officially hand in my ­resignation from motherhood.
Hala Khalaf is a freelance journalist based in Abu Dhabi