Thursday, November 30, 2006

The Mom Club

Before I had children, I really could have cared about kids and "what's best for them," etc. etc. I was girl who would cry over horses caught in floods, but when a child was hit by a car, I thought it was sad, but it wasn't anything I felt I needed to cry about. I mean, kids get hurt. Since having a child however, I can hardly watch the local news (oh the horrors and hazards in life!), but if there is a story that has to do with a child, then I can hardly take it.

I guess this is step one of being in The Mom Club. You change. I never once in my life thought I'd just in front of a train for anyone. I love my husband, but if he's crossing the track and a train's coming, I might offer a "Hey, watch out" or maybe even grab for him, but I wonder, would I leap in front of the train to push him off? I'd do that for my daughter.

There were things about becoming a mom that I just didn't expect. Like the vomit thing. If someone even starts to throw-up, I go into dry heaves right next to them. I'm like their cute twin playing "mirror" at their side. I can't stand vomit, not even my own. I'm more afraid of the stomach flu than public speaking. Yet, when my daughter at 2 1/2 became the vomitting head from the Exocist, I did not run or gag, I held her, told her she was okay, as she threw up all over my new Gap sweater.

This acceptance of vomit amazes me. In a way, I feel like a superhero. I never had powers that would allow me the freedom not to fall apart when someone prays to the porcelain god. But now, I can be the one who gets a towel instead of excusing herself to another neighborhood. Sorry, but I parked my car in Kansas and I must retrieve it now.

I never realized I could be that mama bear, the superwoman who will battle snot and stomach flu. It amazes me now when I look at other mothers and know that many of them also possess these secret powers. To stay up all night with the sick child, not because we *have to,* but because at those moments, every diploma, every promotion, every Pottery Barn item we've ever owned doesn't matter because we were created, put on this earth for one reason, and she's sick now. The world stops and we realize how much we don't need and exactly who we do.

Labels: , , ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home