…warning, mommy x-ing…

Well, it’s Mother’s Day and internet chatter is buzzing with reasons of why moms are the greatest. It wasn’t  until I became a mom that I truly recognized the profound love that exist between mother and child. With that love is a profound sense of fear, anxiety, hope, and understanding of the fragility of life.

A mom has an uncanny sixth sense to know when something is wrong, even when separated by distance. I’m always amazed that I can be surrounded by a ton of children but I seldom confuse another child’s call to his/her mother with that of my own.  No matter how hard the mini-me tries to mask disappointment, anxiety, or fear, I know how he feels the instant I look at him. I know when he’s scheming, plotting, and have eagle eyes that spot when he’s about to misbehave.

All that comes with the territory of being a mother.  Since I don’t know any other way to be than 100% real, let me tell you a few other secrets of motherhood….

Being a mom means entering a perpetual state of exhaustion, sometimes it’s physical, other times it is emotional, and let’s not forget mental fatigue. I’m constantly thinking of at least five things at once: what to cook for dinner, did I wash all the laundry, if I have to work late who’s picking up the mini-me, did I unplug the iron, does the mini-me have a test/lunch money/homework/band instrument, have I mailed all the bills, what time is [insert after school activity] occurring….

That sound sleep, the kind where you can sleep through a storm/earthquake/Armageddon, ceases to exist when you become a mommy. Instead, you wake at the sound of a pin drop. There’s a time in which your bed is no longer your own as your bundle of joy finds reasons to join you. What your friends with children don’t tell you is that those cute tiny hands become mid-night projectiles that hit you squarely in the face and kicks from those little feet hurt.

You will be peed on at least once, more if you have a boy. WARNING, I speak from experience…It is highly possible that said pee is aimed at the facial area if you forget to put on your glasses as you conduct a late night pamper change.  Baby puke will destroy your favorite shirt, be weary of the green pea baby food. At one point, you will find yourself doing a little more than a “temperature test” on warmed baby fruit and say, “Hmm, this doesn’t taste too bad.”

As a mom, I have Google’d every known symptom associated with every disease known to man. That also stopped around age 8 and was replaced with, “You’ll be alright.” I don’t condone doing so, but on the very day that there is a meeting at work that is of extreme importance, the love of your life will catch a simple cold and you will consider dosing with Child-Tylenol and praying that the school doesn’t call.

Being a mom also means saying goodbye to adult programming, you’ll quickly learn the theme songs to every frickin’ child show ever made, and at some point find yourself humming the ditty. That possibly could be the sign that you’re reaching a breaking point, take a moment to yourself…Your friends without children will think you speak a foreign language at times. No, they don’t know the cost of pampers and don’t realize that baby poop comes out in ALL the colors of the rainbow.  Click the link if you don’t believe me. I’ll wait….

Say goodbye to ever having privacy in the bathroom, EVER again. (The mini-me can time asking a question at the exact moment the bathroom door closes. Sadly, I still walk in on my mother too.) Modesty no longer occurs, you can dress anywhere after a hospital staff has seen your most intimate of parts.

As a mom, I smile through poorly structured school plays and band performances that could make my ears bleed. I sit through sports that last HOURS as I watch uncoordinated children attempt to show sportsmanship after losing, sometimes badly. I have enough ashtrays (I don’t smoke), artworks,  and handmade gifts to fill a room. I don’t know what to do with this crap, yet I smile and take each gift as if it’s the first and best.

There are times I leave work early just to get a few quiet minutes alone in the house to recharge. (I learned this from my mother.) I’ve also found myself sitting in the car a few extra minutes before walking into the chaos of my house. On bad days,  I have moments when I want to run kicking and screaming from the house, instead I challenge the mini-me to a MJ Experience dance off to relieve stress. Those challenges get pretty intense since neither of us wants to lose.

I have the patience of a saint, unless the mini-me chooses the day that is also the height of my PMS to act a fool.

As a mom, I’ve adapted to a change in thinking, I no longer think in terms of “Me” but instead think, “The mini-me would like to…”

I know my child’s cry from any others.

Putting the mini-me “to bed” usually means I’ll fall asleep also, despite having a ton of stuff to carry out by the end of the night.

No matter how quiet the house may be, how quiet or preoccupied the mini-me may be, the second the phone rings….I’ve learned the meaning of the saying, “every shut-eye ain’t sleep,” very intimately.

I save the last bite of my favorite cake/ice cream/dinner specifically for the mini-me, even when I want to gulp it down whole before it’s too late. I’ve given up trips to the hair salon, manicures, and morning trips to the coffee shop to save for a “mommy/mini-me date.” As a warning to a new mom, you will lose your child at least once. It may be for only a few seconds because they are usually standing DIRECTLY behind you in your blind spot, but those seconds evoke the fear of God. I’ve never had a the onset of a panic attack occur so quickly…

I know what it means to love someone more than life, I’d protect my baby at all costs. I look differently at strangers, I question their motives, and I am more selective of the people with whom I interact. Being a mom, I’ve kissed boo-boos, blown in eyes to remove eyelashes, moved at lightning speed to “save” my baby from a fall or bump, purposely made a fool of myself to elicit a laugh, read food labels and cook balanced meals, and I’ve fallen in love to an extent that no romantic love can EVER match….

Happy Mother’s Day!

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