Saturday, June 5, 2010


I always knew I'd be a mother. Always. I remember being five years old and  playing house, swaddling all my baby dolls, feeding them, burping them, putting them to sleep and feeling like it just wasn't enough. I wanted a real baby. I wanted to be a mommy more than anything and I'd play it all out in my head.

 The way I'd hold my babies, the meals I'd cook for them, how I would dress them and the things I would teach them. Everything.

 My mom used to babysit a lot to make extra money and she would always let me participate as much as my age and knowledge would allow. As I got older she'd occasionally ask me if I wanted to cover for her and I would enthusiastically accept every offer, even going as far as canceling outings with friends, just so I could babysit. I still talk to a few of the kids I used to watch and it makes me so immensely proud to see that they have grown into beautiful, smart teenagers. One of them still leaves comments on my MySpace from time to time that simply say "Babysitter!". He has no idea how happy that makes me. :)

Now that I'm a real mother, I wake up every morning feeling like I've won the lottery. Sure, I have my fair share of bad, lazy mornings, but who doesn't? and what better way to deal with bad days than having a tiny human with sparkling, round eyes and a high pitched voice call you "mommy". It makes me melt. :)

Today I woke up a little bit sad, thinking about how big my boys are getting. I don't have infants anymore [and I kinda' miss it]. There's something about a droopy, warm newborn sprawled across your chest that just makes you want to sit there endlessly, savoring every second and engraving every moment, every breath and every curve of that tiny face into your brain, because you know that before you know it, they will have grown and memories will be all you have left.

Then I realized how we have left that stage and entered a completely new one which will be filled with just as much, or perhaps even more, fun. We have entered the stage of books and colors and fairy tales and trains, pirates, dragons and sword fights. I love having conversations with them, even if I get incomprehensible gibberish as a response to my questions. I love to hear them babble and act as if they just poured their hearts out to me only to have me smile, nod and pretend I know exactly what they said.

 We had a blast after my little epiphany. We pretended the couch was a great big boat and everything below it was a cold, choppy ocean filled with sharks. We gathered a few toys in a container and pretended it was our treasure chest filled with gold coins and precious jewels. Even Sadie, our puppy, joined in on the fun, and got to play a dangerous, wild crocodile for a half-hour.

We had so much fun and in between every "argh!" and every giggle, all I could think was how lucky I am to have them. I am in love with being there mother. They have no idea, but all my life I just wanted to be their mommy. And now I am. And everything makes sense again.


1 comment:

  1. Oh! This post was so dead on! It is exactly how I feel. Like being a mom is the absolute greatest thing in the whole wide world. There is nothing I could ever love more! What a wonderful post!


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