I'm a mom at heart. I've been practicing the art of motherhood since I was a little girl. Whether it was caring for my dolls, comforting my siblings when they fell off their bikes, or asking my mom if I could go with her and Dad when they'd leave us with the babysitter because I wasn't, "a kid like the other two." As I got older, I started mothering silly things like my clothes. Yes, you heard me right. I have this thing where, when I hang my shirts up, I want them to face each other, so that none of them "feel left out." When I buy new clothes, I feel bad leaving them in the shopping bag. I try to put them in my closet right away so that they can begin to "get acquainted with the others." You can't make this stuff up.
I've mothered my pets, as well. Yes, first it was our pug, Kandace. She was sick a lot, so I liked to rock her and rub her head. Then it was our miniature schnauzer, Kalvin. He was my first boy dog, so we played and went on little adventures. Now it's my Sophie. She's really just a girl after my own heart. Whether it's brushing her hair, going on walks, or rocking her to sleep, I can't help myself. I know she'd call me Mama if she could speak, but until that magical day, I'll settle for her standing on her hind legs wanting to be held. So between her and my friend's kiddos, my Mama cup overflows.
Is it just me, or has anyone else discovered that after you're married, the moment you sniff or cough, everyone assumes you *must* be pregnant. I wasn't home from our honeymoon two weeks when I complained of a stomach ache. Forget the fact that I have Celiacs disease or that I just ate expired meatloaf: I said "I do" and went on a honeymoon and did the things people do when they go on honeymoons, so let's go pick out nursery colors because the only reasonable explanation is I'm having a baby! One time, I refused a beer, and everyone looked at me like I had an announcement to make. They forget that I've never drank a beer, because it contains barley and that's a BIG no-no for those with a gluten intolerance. It made me laugh at first, but after a while, it was like, "Good grief, people!"
Let me make this clear: I cannot wait to be a mom! I WILL wait, but I can't wait! The day my favorite man in the world and I discover there's a teeny person living inside me will be the epitome of all perfect days. Hearing the heart beat and feeling him move and finally delivering our kids will be remarkable. And as much as I can't wait to be a mom, I'm even more excited to watch Brett be a dad! Ah, that's awfully grown up of us! It will be such a wonderful time in life.
Until then, I'm going to enjoy the little things. When I have a headache, I'm gonna take Advil. Shoot, I may even take three! I'm going to sit in our hot tub longer than I should, and drink a grown up beverage when I'm with my friends. I'm going to take long showers and enjoy peeing alone. I'm going to experience the rush of leaving for Target 20 minutes before it closes, knowing I have plenty of time to get there and don't need to pack a baby in the car seat. While I'm there, I'm going to buy clothes in my size, knowing they will still fit me in a year. I will clean my whole house in 15 minutes, and rest assured by the time I'm done, I won't need to start over. I'm going to watch Ellen and the History channel, because there will be plenty of time for Toy Story and Monsters Inc. We are going to go to sleep early and wake up late, with the only interruption being Sophie growling at squirrels. My car will be Cheerio and Sippy-cup free, and I'm going to jump in it at 11:00pm just to run to the Marathon to pick up Swedish Fish and a fountain pop.
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