“And I hope I don’t leave mom off that list.”
Last summer, I wrote a poem about all the things I am. I’m a woman. Wife. Daughter. Friend. Teacher. Sister. Aunt.
But I am not a mother.
“And I hope I don’t leave mom off that list”.
That’s the last line.
Being a cat and dog mom isn’t quite the same thing. They love me, yes, and God knows I love them. More than I can rationally explain. But still, it isn’t the same.
A few years ago, I saw a woman that I knew at a party. She was smoking and drinking within days of her due date. Every time I see an article about the dangers of being selfish, I fight the urge to mail it to her. I would never be that mother.
I see women in grocery lines that pay more attention to their phones than they do their children. Little ones with big imaginations that just want to tell a story. I would never be that mother either.
But I have so many examples of wonderful moms. All around me.
I watch my mom friends do it so right. My mother of boys friend has so many laughs and stories with her gentle men. She’s a wonderful mom and her boys will be Knights. I want to be that mother.
My other friends have girls. They’re amazing moms who teach the girls that being a queen of the mind means more than being adored for being pretty. The girls are beautiful, but they’re going to grow up knowing that they are smart and adventurous. I want to be that mother.
My own mother. She taught me to be smart and always believe in myself. She supported my dreams and has always been my biggest fan.
Yesterday, Gwen Stefani disappointed me for the first time. A woman I based my hair color on for years. A woman whose wardrobe stylist I wanted to borrow. And kick ass singer in a band?! Yes.
April Fools isn’t a day to joke about what many of us want and don’t have.
I’m not a butt-hurt internet troll. I’m not offended by everything. But… I did think it was tacky.
April Fools’ Day has never been my favorite. I find every day worthy of a harmless laugh. Only the truest jackasses come out to play on April 1. Maybe we should rename it April 1: the day of the assclown.
And Gwen, you used to be my girl!
I felt like it was a jab right into my longing heart.
How can you joke about something I can’t bear to leave off my life list?
I know that I’m not “out of time” and those antiquated ideas about not having kids after thirty are just that. But….
I know that the time needs to be right for each family. But…
I know that my husband and I don’t have to answer to his family, or mine. Our decisions are ours alone. But….
But it’s still not funny.
I don’t want to leave mom off my list. How can someone just joke? “Oh, I’m pregnant! Ha, ha! Not!”
I watch announcement videos and those awesome facial expressions that expectant grandparents make. I save those for future reference.
I’m not pregnant.
But when I am, I’ll laugh. It won’t be funny but it will be joyous.
The selfish women I know won’t be invited to share the joy. They aren’t even invited into my life anymore.
The wonderful mom friends will usher me under their wings and tell me their secrets.
Gwen, you used to be my girl.
I’m not using that name now.
Or was I ever?
Ha, ha! Funny! I’m joking!!
Or am I?
You don’t see “jokester” on my list.