Momness

I have had a short absence here because I was on a mini-vaca of sorts. I had a few days off work because N's daycare was closed for vacation week and I also had friends fly in to visit us from CO. This wasn't just any friend either. My oldest and bestest girlfriend came with her 15 month old son to stay with us for a few days. It was so good to spend time together and to see N and E interact and get to know one another.

Let me tell you though, our visits are NOT what they used to be. Kids, staying in at night, entertaining people other than ourselves all day long, fighting to get a word in with each other while the ankle biters make various demands for our attention; conversations about potty training, having more of these rugrats, and what life used to be. I am not complaining. I wouldn't change it for anything. Especially since she and I have been friends since the 1st grade and we have been through EVERY stage of life together, this is just our natural progression. Some things never change though, like how many bottles of wine we drank at the kitchen table after the little people were in bed, or how much we love to shop (and even forced N and E to come with us), how much we love to eat, and how much she means to me. There is nothing sweeter and more grounding than an old friend who knows everything about you...even though she uses the word "old" much too liberally when making reference to me. Especially since she is 3 days older than me. Pfft! 

I think it's pretty clear that I was reminded more than once this week that I am a Mom. I know that might sound silly (or delusional), but sometimes I have these moments where it is much more obvious to me that I am someones Mother. Yes, I have a little girl. I have been parenting her for 2 and a half years now (and if we count the 41 weeks I was carrying her around on the inside, then it's over 3 years) and I KNOW I am a mother. I just think when most of us hear that word we picture our own mothers. Or our friends mothers. Or (*gasp*) our grandmothers. It is hard for me to relate these images to myself. And not just because I have a fear of waking up one day and wanting to put on high-waisted jeans, a sweatshirt, and then go buy a mini-van.

I think it's because I always assumed these people, these oldER women, knew what the F they were doing. I assumed their only interest was me, and that they were put on this planet to irritate me, set ground rules, comfort me when I was hurt and heartbroken, and love me more than anyone. Believe me, my mother did ALL these things (and much, much more) but I also know now that my mother is a great many things, and my Mom is only one of them.

It's safe to say that one of my biggest fears before having N was that I would be put into some sort of dreaded box. A Mom Box. I have never been one for any kind of box, and watching so many people around me have children and then seemingly drop off the face of the planet was just plain scary. It was also unnerving for me to hear people say how important other "Mom Friends" were going to be...some people even implied these friends were the only ones you may end up having. Also knowing how all-consuming children (especially newborns) can be made me nervous. Super Husband and I went into this parenting game knowing we wanted to be the best parents we can be, but also knowing that we needed to be strong in our convictions that these "rules" just plain don't apply to us. And frankly, they shouldn't apply to anyone.

Like I have said before, this is something I am very proud that we have accomplished (so far). We work hard at feeding our interests outside of our family, putting our marriage on the top of the list, and being N's Mom and Dad. I think what I have realized recently is that because of my box fears (and bad jeans fears) is that I might dumb down what it is means to embrace my inner Mom. I brag about my kid, I love her more than I thought I could love anyone, I make decisions for her, and about her, each day. I set boundaries, I do infinite loads of laundry, and I comfort her when she is sick and heartbroken. It has nothing to do with how much I embrace the act of parenthood and her irreplaceable spot in my life. It has to do with me embracing what has changed about me. I will never be a box person, I will always be a great many things, just like my mother...but I am totally A Mom.

So I am vowing to myself to never buy bad jeans, cut my hair too short, or wear sweatpants to dinner, but I will learn to embrace my Momness...as long as it means I can still talk too loud and drink wine at the kitchen table until 1 AM with ALL my friends, then I am all for it.