Happy Mother's Day🩷

 Granted there are all sorts of mothers. Some can build anything. Some can't boil water. And there are those of us that fall in between. 

I was going to write about my own mother, but felt it best to leave it in the past. So I decided to write about my own adventures. I will say I am a lot like my father. I'm an observer for the most part. Maybe a good listener, too. All I knew was I didn't want to be my mother with my own kids. 

Of course, it might not have been the best start when I stabbed myself accidentally in the pregnant stomach while leaning over the dishwasher with my first one. Oh, it wasn't that bad. I don't think that's the reason he almost had a devil toe. 

Of course, he was a wild one. Never slept through the night until he was in middle school. As soon as he walked he was a climber. I did my best to introduce him to classical music even before he was a toddler, but he later found Kid Rock and the Insane Clown Posse. Of course, back then, I didn't realize those were the golden years when he was a baby. We were always on the go, and he expected me to find him playmates so we knew everyone in the apartment complex.

Along came his sister, about three years later. We were on our way to Illinois from Upstate New York. I thought it might be a good idea to have a pregnancy test before the move. I made a call. The clinic told me to bring in my first urine of the day. So my husband did. I got a call before he got home, congratulating me. It must have been the immaculate conception because we'd both been sick. Instantly, I went to the bathroom and threw up. When my son saw what happened, he had to throw up too. Yes, that was the start of the longest cold I had ever endured. With lots of moments of waiting to hear news about what the future might hold with her. But we made it, even if I got stuck under a bathroom door while chasing the oldest who had locked me in somehow. Yes, he was full of surprises, but he knew all the characters on Days of Our Lives and sometimes, got it righ from the words I would show him, hoping he'd learn to read before he was four.

The second one was full of determination. She did have a wet nose as soon as she was born. And cholic seemed to last weeks on end. She was not a breastfeeder. I felt she hated me from the get-go. But as I can see now, she is the one I can count on in many things. And she figured out her brother early on. She had mysterious ways of getting him to do the chores. Yet, they were like an old married couple most of their early years.

And then came the third. Everyone said he was just like me. Of course, he was the one who kissed all the boys and girls at preschool. "Why did you do it?" I had to ask and he replied, "Their lips are so soft, Ma." I should have expected it. That time I was looking for his older brother in the massive splash pad at the water park, who of course drenched me with a water gun as soon as I looked up to see him taking over the ship, I looked down and there was the youngest one barely three kissing some little girl.

Thankfully, I somehow survived. Of course, they have given me plenty of stories over the years.