It’s still hard for me to grasp the notion that Mother’s Day applies to me now.
Having spent most of my life in the “I’m Never Having Kids Club,” I haven’t decided yet if it’s an advantage or a disadvantage to have no preconceptions of what parenthood will be like. On the one hand, I can’t be disappointed if things don’t turn out like I planned, since I had no plans in the first place. On the other hand, everything will be a surprise, along with all the emotions that come with parenting that surprise me every day.
I’m not a big crier, and before kids, the silliest thing that made me cry was Joey and Chandler hugging on Friends – got me every time. (Dear heavens, did I just tell all of Richmond that?) Now, I’m a regular waterworks. I glanced up at a restaurant last week to see my 3-year-old buttering his own biscuit like a big boy, and I cried. My 1-year-old whispered “night, night” when I was rocking him last week, and I cried. When my 3-year-old made his own bed AND got dressed all by himself a few weekends ago, I was near inconsolable.
And then there was The Wiggles concert. The Wiggles fall into a special “I Never in a Million Years Thought…” category. I think I’m safe in saying that when you’re not a parent, shows like The Wiggles and Barney generally make your skin crawl. So not in a million years did I think that not only would I know all of the words to all of The Wiggles’ songs, but I would actually buy tickets for all four of us to go to the concert, AND be excited beyond words about going. Fast-forward to the concert. We dash to our seats to be sure not to miss a second. Then, it happens. “Toot-toot, chugga-chugga, big red car…” They roll out in the Big Red Car, and I start bawling like a baby over my kids’ excitement. “Fruit salad, yummy, yummy!” More tears. “Hands in the air, rock-a-bye your bear” They’re killing me! That’s my little one’s faaaaaaavorite! I left the show feeling like I’d just sat through Terms of Endearment. Twice.
So parenthood is making me a sap who wears her heart on her sleeve, right next to the drool and mashed banana stains. I have a big box of Kleenex ready for Mother’s Day, which I’ll spend with my mom, my role-model and fellow sap, and my kids, who are growing up before my eyes. It won’t be a Mother’s Day that I had ever envisioned years ago, but it definitely won’t be one I’d trade for anything in the world.
Happy Spring and Happy Mother’s Day from all of us at Richmond Family Magazine!
