Who put the mom in the mom sh-mom sh-mom

(If you read this post’s title in Leonard Nimoy’s voice, we’re best friends.)

I’ve got a lot to say about motherhood lately, but this Mother’s Day, I’m not thinking about me. I’m, appropriately, thinking about my mom.

Why? Because as far as mothering goes, the job that this woman has done in the past three months is worthy of a Presidential citation, or an Olympic medal, or, I don’t know, some really fantastic wine.

When you have a baby, that baby becomes the world. The pregnancy mindset of  “I must take supreme care of my body because I am a sacred vessel” quickly shifts to the new mom mindset of “What body? What are you talking about? Where’s the baby? I can’t feel my face.

It’s enough to give a girl whiplash. In fact, maybe I got whiplash, but it would have just blended into all the other physical discomforts so I never would’ve noticed.

But know who notices stuff about me? My mom. She, while hilariously and insanely in love with her brand new grandbaby, has never ever lost sight of me. In the very beginning, she came over after school almost every day and sat with me to keep me company. She talked with me about all the things I was worried about. Listened while I went on and on about the minutia of breastfeeding, and all my aches and pains.

She did the dishes I left piling up in the sink, or organized all the new tiny clothes, whatever she could do. And she smiled while doing it, happy to be there.

Nevermind all the extra stuff like making an appointment for me to get a manicure and taking me shopping so that not everything I wear is stained with milk throw-up. Also, she never forgets to ask, “How are you doing?”

My husband commented, “She seems so worried,” and I think that was true. But she was worried because I was her sleepless, discombobulated daughter. I kind of appreciated it.

It’s how I’ll endeavor to be if Emmeline ever has a baby (no pressure, Emmie, YOU BE YOU). If I can be the kind of mother to her that my mom is to me, this little chicken will be a very lucky girl. Her nails are too bitty for manicures right now, but we’ll get around to it.

I guess the point is that over the years my mom has done some really world-class momming, but I’ve never appreciated her quite as much as I do this Mother’s Day.

Yay! Happy Mother’s Day, everyone!

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