Post-Mother’s Day

So Sunday was Mother’s Day (as you all probably know… so I probably should have left that part out… I’m pausing too long OH GEEZ AWKWARD) and I thought to myself “hey! I’m a mom! I should write a post today!” And then I thought about what awesome topics I have dancing around in my head, like little sugarplums or mice in tutus or something, and then I realized “wait, it should probably be related to Mother’s Day. Okay, that’s no problem” and I came up with this:

Today is Mother’s Day!

 

 

 

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So I decided not to bother you guys. Guys? Where are you going?

Being a mom is pretty cool, and nerve-wracking. There are so many things that can be put in someone’s mouth that I never even THOUGHT about before. Who knew doggie treats came in “kid-approved” flavors? And toilet paper? And the window on the train? He loves to read, which I’m insanely proud of, but I haven’t bought him a textbook on string theory, and I haven’t been reading stories of hobbits and elves at bedtime – yet. But apparently I’m still too far behind. I got him a set of toy blocks with the chemical elements on them instead of the alphabet – he’s learning his letters pretty well there, although we may run into difficulty when it comes to pronunciation: “Yes, I know Pb is written on the block, but you do not say “pbbbth”. You say lead. Or peanut butter.”

I’m constantly worried that I’m holding him back. “I let him watch two episodes of Thomas today. Now he’s going to stop loving books and never learn to read!” D didn’t even look up from his phone. “Stop being ridiculous. He’s over there trying to read his books right now.” Yes, but he would actually *be* reading them if I hadn’t let him watch TV, wouldn’t he? I see posts all over Pinterest (part of why I rarely go on now, although I learned this awesome thing, it’s called “categories” and you can chose which one you want to look at instead of seeing all those “You suck as a parent!” pins) about these awesome projects that parents are doing with their kids, some under a year old, and I look over at him and think “why are you stuck with me? Why don’t you have a mom that builds light tables and makes sensory bins for you? Instead you have one who taught you to make your trucks talk to each other. One who gets so distracted coloring in your book she doesn’t realize you went off to your blocks ten minutes ago.” I even bought a huge bag of rice to make one of the sensory bins I saw; it’s sitting over there atop the bookcase, looking at me with such disapproval. Glaring, even. Don’t be so smug – you’re just a bag of rice. I could cook and eat you if I wanted to.

I didn’t expect to actually write about being a mom, and it’s not even close to everything I think, constantly, day and night. There are so many things I am worried about, and so many things I worry that I *don’t* worry about enough. And yet, I’ll catch him acting out an entire story with his trains on the floor, and building towers with his blocks, and when he looks up at me he is so proud and I can’t help but feel relieved. Even with whatever mistakes I’ve made and will make, he is going to be AWESOME. The other day he made me sit down on the couch and brought over his Curious George book to read to me. He was so excited to show me he could recite the numbers George dialed on the phone. They were completely out of order and I’m pretty sure a couple of them didn’t even exist, but I don’t think I’ve ever felt so much joy. I love that I am a part of his life, and I can’t wait to hear what he tells me next.

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