We’ve been on vacay for a couple of weeks. Not much access to computers, nor much access to the internet, nor much caring about that. I was way too focused on sitting in the hottub, drinking wine, and watching the sun set into the pacific from our beachfront vacation rental.
But now we’re back, and back to reality. And so: some musings.
I’m 32-years old. Well educated. An increasingly capable mother of two. Strong willed. Direct. Opinionated. I don’t tend t worry TOO terribly much what people think of me. So why is it my mother can reduce me to the emotional level of a three-year-old simply by looking at my head and asking, “So what are you doing with your hair?”
I’ve spent the last few weeks co-habiting with more testosterone than I am used to–M, my dad, and my two brothers. And that has me wondering: do ALL male animals experience such lingering enjoyment while taking a shit, or is it just human males?
Sarah is the cutest baby EVER when she’s trying to wake up. She’s laying beside me right now, stretching and curling and tooting up a storm. She toots full-grown toots. No tiny, demure baby toots from my girl. It’s as though she’s decided, ‘If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right.’
Then when she finally opens her eyes and sees me beside her, she grins the biggest, sweetest, most breathtaking baby grin ever. Yep. Being Sarah’s mom pretty much sucks. 😉
She’s also a talker. She’ll talk to anyone and everyone. Recently she’s started this new thing where she’ll ‘talk’ to me while we nurse before she goes to sleep. This little recap can often last as long as 5 minutes, and she’s staring me in the eyes the entire time. It’s my fault. When she was tiny-tiny, and she’d start to babble, I’d encourage her by asking, “Really? And then what happened?” Clearly, she’s come to the only possible conclusion: her mother, while devoted and loving, is an idiot. As such, Mama must be reminded as frequently as possible what has happened in our day, and a good time to do this is when she’s got Mama’s nipple clenched in her tiny jaws–Mama’s attention wanders less this way.
We’ve just spent the last several minutes doing nothing but looking at each other and smiling. I love being a mom.