The Most Awesome Job

Not very long after that afternoon at Menard's, I discovered I was pregnant, or "prego-my-eggo" as one of my funniest friends likes to say.

Nine months after that, my "Bud" was born.  His older sister, my "Pay-Pay" was over the moon happy with him.

While we were in the hospital with Bud, I continued to completely ignore my intuition, even though it was banging on the door inside my head where I'd locked it out months ago.

In getting to that day I finally could not ignore my intuition any longer, I feel I must showcase the two reasons I'll never stop listening to it again, Pay-Pay and Bud.

Being someone's mom is the most awesome job on the planet. Even before I was a mom, I knew this. Sadly, I have witnessed countless woman who don't know this. I have sat in conferences where moms have completely bashed their children. I have felt the sting of children recounting their mom ignoring them, or calling them a horrible name. And, I have heard of moms who couldn't be bothered to spend a day with their little peanuts and have dramatically declared after such a day of "being stuck with them" that they need a break.

These woman baffle me, one hundred percent baffle me. I am not going to judge them, I am just going to hope that one of them some day reads this post and realizes she does in fact, have the most awesome job in the world, as she is someone's mom.

My kiddos are the reason I went on after that May day. I truly believed if they didn't have a strong mama, they had no chance of turning out good. A mother is your guide in life, so if I were to crawl into bed and never come out... well, I was afraid they'd outgrow the pajamas they were currently wearing and be really ticked about it.

I have one daughter. She is five. As I am typing this, she just brought me a plate of Play-doh cake. The cake is orange, the frosting is brown, and on top sits a tiny flower. This gesture perfectly describes my daughter. She is thoughtful, creative, kind, and resourceful. She adores her family and animals. When we found a lost dog yesterday, she told me we might just have to be like JoAnn (the woman we got our cat from) and take care of lots of animals. I find her to be a bit intuitive, often informing me of what her brother, cat or dog are thinking before any of them can tell me. Pay-Pay is faithful and resilient. When I told her about all the bad things that had happened that May day, she sobbed, but did not falter. For a little girl whose world was turned upside down, she is surely standing right-side up.

My son is three. He is so..., yes, he is so. Any adjective that could describe him must be prefaced with a "so".  He is stubborn, patient, fierce, and quite possibly the funniest three year old on the planet. He is now bringing me Play-doh to eat, and these actions describe him well, too. Mainly because he started flinging the "vanilla ice cream" across the room. But as quickly as he will misbehave, he will just as quickly remedy his ill-behavior. His world, though it turned upside down, never felt the shift. Life for him will always be this way, he does not know our life before that May day, and I secretly envy that.

There were many, many days I thought I could not make it one more. There were many obstacles that stood in our way, refusing to move. But each time, I gazed at my children and knew I had no choice but to go on. If that meant knocking down an obstacle, well, then, I did it.

There was one day that was particularly bad, the day I almost really gave up. While cooking dinner, Bud threw a yo-yo into the glass coffee table. For a moment, time froze. The only sound was the last tiny pieces of glass falling out of the table. For the next ten minutes, I gave up. I gave up everything. I quit. I screamed and cried and wailed.I can't explain why the table breaking caused me to snap, but it did. I sank to the floor and sobbed, "I don't think I can be your mama anymore." My children scampered onto my lap, and my daughter said, "You have to be our mama." Her reply was like a slap to my hysterics. Nearly frozen, I ceased my pity party, raised myself from the ground, and as I held them both tightly, I promised them to never, ever stop being their mama. It was not an option.

As I sit here and "eat" my Play-doh treats, I can't help but marvel at what the universe blessed me with... the best strength of all, being two someone's mama.

This post is dedicated to Diane, who is a "mother" to my children when I am not there. Thank you from the very bottom of my heart.