We have a baby!! Only recently have I stopped with my daily “we have a baby?!?” thing to Daddy Bedgood, which I’m sure he’s relieved about. He’d always look at me like I was completely insane like I’d just announced with surprise that we were married (frankly, sometimes I’m still a little surprised that I’m somebody’s wife if we’re being honest).
And so, on my first Mother’s Day I found it hard to feel like a mother. There was no shortage of thoughtful cards and gifts, which made me happier than most people admit materials things should make them feel. But, I still feel like mommies are them not me. Being a mom is something my mom did. It’s kind of like how I always thought being over 30 was something old people did. (And that it meant flat shoes, uncool jeans and mom hair.) Then I turned 30 and realized old was more like 60.
Perhaps the reason I don’t feel like a mom or a wife half the time is because neither are what we have been led to believe they are. They are not glamorous like those photos you see of Victoria Beckham weighing 64 pounds in 6-inch heels with a whole gaggle of kids. Nor is motherhood depressing and like that never ending stream of poo diapers and spit up and overly enthusiastic Baby Einstein songs and kids screaming while you’re in the grocery store scenario your Debbie Downer friend tells you about when you’re pregnant. (yes, I’ve unsuccessfully dodged every baby body fluid and been that lady hauling a screaming baby through the store while trying to make it to the checkout without spilling everything)
It’s somewhere in between. And it’s more than anyone could ever verbalized. Or write. Or sing.
My first Mother’s Day was fantastic as far as days go. We had Wilder’s dedication at church, which was super special (tear) and family came for a visit. I cooked brisket (which tasted super special). It was a day to remember. And I realize now that motherhood is like most things in life – your very own thing. Like marriage, being a mom is what you make it. You can focus on the leaky diapers and cost of organic baby food or the toothless grins and blessing of a big (huge enormous hulk like) boy that loves to eat.
My mother and mother-in-law have both best articulated the truth of motherhood with these two gems.
“There’s nothing like it.”
“Someone else can do (insert something you think is super important here). No one else can be Wilder’s mom.”
I can say for certain there’s truly nothing like being Wilder’s mom.