The Day you get Thanks for Holding things in your Uterus

I'm a mom this year, like a REAL mom! Last year, I was a little bit real because I was pregnant, but THIS year, I'm totally real. Like really real.

Sweater, n.: garment worn by child when its mother is feeling chilly. ~Ambrose Bierce

Mothers Day is tomorrow and the president of our moms club sent out the above quote; I liked it sooo much, I decided to share.




And now, a few things momish I didn't know last year:

1- That you can love someone that much. It is insane the amounts of love I have for that kid. Everyday I amaze myself with the amount of love one human body can possibly hold. It's freaikin' endless, and if your kid is cute, just forget about it, the love quantity is immense. Everyone always says how full of love you are towards your child that you can't even explain it, corny-yes, true-totally.

2- You get other moms. You just GET them. Nothing matters, formula versus breast feeding, co-sleeping versus crib sleeping, cry it out versus picking up, nothing matters. We can make the most opposite decisions in the world, but if you are a mommy who loves your children, you've got all my support, forever.

3- Clothes don't matter. At all. I never really cared that much about them anyway, but if I liked a particular shirt, I tried not to put my shirt in a particular situation where it might get severely stained. It doesn't matter what I'm wearing, if Sawyer pukes something down my back, I'm happy his stomach got rid of what it needed to. Out at lunch the other day, Sawyer started choking on a piece of bread. I picked him up, patted his back and he puked big boy puke all over me. I was so happy that the bread was out of his throat and could care less about my new, vomit adorned outfit.

4- That my thoughts completely wrap around this little human being. Just about every decision made is based upon how that outcome may possibly affect our little man.

5- Two words: Mommy Guilt. During out last vacation, somehow a sliver of Sawyer's arm got sunburnt. Before we left the room every morning, I thickly slathered Sawyer in sunscreen from top of scalp to baby toes. he then wore a hat, layers and had a light blanket always covering him. He was always in his car seat/stroller with sunshade up unless we took him out for a split second to take a picture. One of those days he happened to pop his arm out between the two sunshades and a tiny sliver burnt. We never saw this happen, but it was the only explanation. I never felt sooo bad and sooo horrible and soooo unfit as a parent. A slither of sunburn made me trip on my words explaining it to the doctor. Like I held a heat lamp to him on purpose, or I let him sunbathe in the Caribbean next to me while I slathered baby oil to darken the tan. The doctor laughed, probably sensing those two words. Mommy guilt.

6- Any time someone compliments him is like the best compliment I have EVER received. At lunch again, Sawyer and his little friend played in high chairs next to each other. Two older ladies kept looking over. I was pretty sure they went to lunch to have a good conversation with each other and not hear babies pounding toys against the table. After they finished lunch, the two older ladies walked up to our table and said we had two of the most well behaved and cutest babies. Wow! A compliment towards your kid feels like the best compliment you have ever had times a million. I could care less if anyone ever complimented me again, but you tell me how well behaved, polite, cute, whatever my kid is and I'll beam like the winner of a fourth grade spelling bee.

7- The pride you have as parents. Half me, half Geoff, this little thing discovers something new, tries harder than the day before to accomplish a feat and actually figures something out that he didn't know before. Geoff and I look on, sooo proud, sooo happy, soooo astonished that we made this thing, and this little thing can think and act and love. Every new action, we look over at Sawyer and then to each other and just smile that mommy and daddy smile. That parent pride sort of smile. There is nothing like that smile.

8- That all the pain I endured to get him here, all the barf filled hours I had during his incubation, the endless amounts of worry I had in hopes that he would come out healthy and happy were not only worth it but welcomed and that I would do it all over again to give him siblings to play with, to beat up, to mentor, to boss around, to protect and to scare the living crap out of. If he is anything like I was as an older sibling, I'm going to have my hands full, and going to be good friends with the medical staff at the nearest hospital. Though I'll act disappointed that he tricked his sister into doing something that ensures I dial 911, inside I'm chuckling because he is chuckling too and because I'm THAT immature. I love that little man!


Happy Mother's Day everyone! Stay out of the E.R.!