Wednesday, January 11, 2012


{Rub a dub dub, three - soon to be four!?! - girls in the tub}

Today my eldest climbed into bed with me in the dark, wee hours of the morning. She was too excited to succumb to slumber for long...

Happy Birthday Lu-bug, I sure love you, I whispered and snuggled her in close to me. I love the lack of resistance produced by a drowsy morning, the busyness of her day not yet increasing the space between us. I am so lucky you're my daughter, you big SIX year old...

I love you Mommy, and I'm SO lucky you're my Mom.

I hugged her tighter as my heart did its usual cascade of dribbling, aching emotion in response to her sweet words and raspy voice. Oh child, if only you knew. You barely hit the jackpot with me, a mere even return on investment at best. But me? I hit the lottery. The supremo jumbo bit fat outta of this world ka-ching ching the day I got you.

I'm a huge crier now. So much more so than in my earlier days. Engagement parties: wipe a sentimental tear. Weddings: bring the tissues. Baby births/announcements: get a mop. Two mops.

When I have the privilege of witnessing such events in other's lives, I can't help but sob into Tyler's shirt sleeve mumbling things like, 
"It's just .so. beautiful.  
Do they even know?!! DO THEY EVEN REALIZE?!!?
{At this point it becomes more of a wailing sob, insert hefty nose blow as I stand at attention and strike my fist high into the air. I'm prepared to give an impromptu speech until Tyler forces me back into my seat and reminds me that this is the reason we don't have friends. Only obligatory family wedding invitations for us...and don't even think about allowing me in a delivery room unless you're prepared to hear my ballad rendition of Echoing Green's "This is the Story of Our Lives..."}

  Do they comprehend the magnitude of this day, of this moment?!!! 
How this will change everything forever?!!"

I used to find it mildly annoying to hear women talking about motherhood. Blah blah blah...enough with the birth stories! The labor saga! The epiphanies! Newsflash: this has been going on for thousands of years. Snooze fest: your story has been told like...yeah, a billion times. You're like a weird club I'm second guessing joining due to all of these frequent public displays of emotion and verbal exchanges centered around your cervix and 'sleep solutions'. Shudder....

I also clung firm to the notion that motherhood would not solely define me. I would not be that woman who couldn't carry a conversation beyond diaper brands or playdates. No sirreee...not me. Motherhood would not swallow this vixen, this master of her own destiny, only to later chew me up and spit me out as an empty-nester left aimlessly frequenting nail salons and Kohls sales as I try to rebuild some semblance of an individual existence. Not I! Take that motherhood...just try and catch me! I will keep you at a distance as I outwit your cunningly invasive, individuality-sucking title.

But, six years ago today a little girl named Lily Tyler made her entrance...

And the world changed. 

And i surrendered


{Happy Birthday Lu-bug, I owe ya big time.}


Joan said...

Soul-sucking? How about soul-enlarging!
I know what you meant though...I think I'm feeling feisty and argumentative today--watch out ;) Maybe you should give my husband a heads up. haha.

amy m. said...

GREAT post. I like the use of those BEYOND ADORABLE photos to help tell the story. Who could NOT surrender to all that???
Happy Birthday Miss Lily.

P.S. Love the empty-nester line.
P.P.S. Re: Post title. Becoming...accepting of that soul-sucking title?

rae said...

Yes indeed...i gladly accept the soul sucking! :)