Mom

Recently a question was asked: What do you like about being a mom?

I’ve really given it a lot of thought.  I’ve decided that there are a few blanket things I enjoy about being a mom, but most of them have to do with the individual involved.  Like there are so many things I love about being Bugs’s mom, but they don’t necessarily apply to L or Tiny Dancer yet, and vice versa all around the worldsies.

So that’s my segue into this post is going to be complicated.  And probably a little long.  So grab your coffee and welcome to my mind.  Lesbi honest.  Grab your whiskey and hold on tight.

First of all, selfish reasons.  Shouldn’t selfish reasons come first based solely on the idea of selfishness?  Well anyway, I love being a mom because there are three little kids (almost) everyday who think I. AM. FUCKING. AWESOME.  They want to sit by me and cuddle me and hug me and listen to me.  They want me to play with them and read them stories and all because I’m their mom.  When I leave, they are sad that I am leaving and when I get home, they are so god damn happy to see me.  It’s great.  Like really, really, really great.  Bugs, for example, is right in the heat of loving all things video games, and he wants to tell me EV-ER-Y-THING about his favorite characters and show me everything they do.  L likes to make me laugh and constatnly wants me to chase and tickle him, and he has the cutest fucking laugh that gets my heart every time.  Tiny Dancer loves to hug me and says “Mommm” in a way that the last “M” sounds like a hum and she tips her little head back and purses her lips for a kiss and says “MMM-ahhh” for her kiss noise.  I can’t get enough of those kisses.  I could just eat her face off.

Next, I enjoy watching my children grow and learn.  It is interesting, in like a nerdy psychological, anthropological, and cool-ological sense.  It is so rewarding and interesting to watch their little minds work.  And their little bodies.  And to see them change and learn and have feelings.  Tiny Dancer gets her feelings hurt so easily when she is hurt or sad or even tired.  Bugs and L wrestle on the floor and contort themselves in ways I can’t even comprehend.  Oh and also, boy parts.  That sounds weird, but I don’t have brothers.  So to see boys get hit in the crotch and have it bother them at like, age 6, is just weird.  And interesting.  And now I sound like a perv, but I don’t mean it like that.  It’s just I didn’t grow up around boys so it’s cool to see how boys live.  And weird.  And kind of gross to be honest.  

It’s also totally awesome and amazing when they learn something new.  And even awesomer and amazinger when you are the one who taught it to them.  Take noses for example.  Not ONE of my kids knew where their nose was until I taught them that.  And all 3 of them have now been subjected to hours of “Show mommy where your nose is!”  “Now, where’s mommy’s nose?”  They have also had to demonstrate this little gem of intellect to countless relatives.  Not to be bragadocious, but they also all know where their eyes, mouth, teeth, tongue, belly and various other body parts are.  (Tiny Dancer is obviously still in the early stages of this, but I feel confident she is going to know right where her head, shoulders, knees and toes are very soon,)  It basically makes your heart feel full and proud when you have taught them something worthwhile.  Although sometimes the stuff that’s not that worthwhile is hilarious.  Like swearing and fart noises.

Another exciting thing I love about being a mom is that I am right about a lot of things some of the world is wrong about.  Let me explain.  I think LOVE is the most important thing that exists.  Like ever.  Other people have little to no regard for love.  They are obsessed with being right, or being “moral” or worrying about how something irrelevant is going to affect their hate filled lives.  I believe in tolerance and love and kindness and passing that on to other people.  Of course, practicing this love can be difficult at times, but I believe it strongly enough to teach my children the same.  And I think there needs to be a lot more parents who do the same.  Mean girls, gangs, war, bullying, discrimination, etc etc and so on and so forth could be a thing in our past if more people would just believe in love.  Religion falls into this category as well.  I don’t think that any one religion is right and that we will all burn in hell if we aren’t kneeling on the right pew or praying to the best god.  Religion, to me, is a relationship with all things and again, love is what cultivates it.  So I want my children to know that they don’t have to go to church on Sunday to be a good person, and that if they have a friend that is a different religion, they don’t have to try to be like that friend, nor do they have to assume any damn thing about that person based on their religion.  

Most of all, I love being a mom because I get to watch my kids every day.  I get to kiss their faces, tuck them in (and drink wine by myself afterward.)  I get to go on in this life knowing that even if they have nothing else, they have each other.  I get to look forward to all the big days in their lives that have already come and gone in my own.  Proms, graduations, college, weddings, babies.  Hell, I even get to look forward to Christmas and Easter and the tooth fairy all over again.  It’s fantastic and hard as shit, but I love it.  Clearly, based on this blog alone, it’s not always easy.  Or really, it’s not ever easy.  But this is it for me.  I’ve always known I was born to be a mom.  It didn’t look like this in my mind, but I would not, could not have it any other way.  

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