Being a mother is the pass jackpot

5 May

Just in case you missed the assault of flower delivery, jewelry store and greeting card commercials, there is a BIG holiday coming up.  No, I’m not talking about the U.S. Distributorship for Corona and Taco Bell sanctioned Cinco de Mayo.  It’s Mother’s Day. This year will be my thirteenth year of getting in on the action.  The first handful of pregnant months I had were filled with a lot of “Oh shit!  What have we done?”  I never really liked kids all that much and it occurred to me around month five that there were only two ways “it” was going to get out of me, and neither seemed all that agreeable.  And babies are one of those things that you can’t ever give back without looking like a total monster to your friends and family.


Luckily, it came out, we named her and gave her food.  It went so well that we added a boy one.  Big Daddy is an architect and he likes symmetry.  We couldn’t have planned it any better.  Oh, wait.  It was planned.  As it turns out, being a Mom has been pretty cool.  Sure there’s that whole thing about witnessing the miracle of birth, the outpouring of empathy for mankind that makes me cry when I watch Oprah now and the unbridled love for anything that is needy.  That’s all true.  But there are so many other perks…

Teen boogie shoes

For instance:  on Friday night I am chaperoning a dance at Snakebite’s school.  I am way giddy over getting to watch middle-schoolers in their social element.  Snakebite is socially cautious, so she’s not a good measuring stick for what Good Morning America tells me is going on with teens these days.  I am getting access to whether or not they all really want to be Kardashians and Biebers like E! News says, if they are sucking on meth pipes like 48 Hours insists they are, or if 1 in 10 of them might be pregnant like in InTouch Weekly swears.  If I weren’t a mother, I’d just be some creepy middle-aged woman hanging out oogling a bunch of 13 year-olds with excessive interest.And I love going to Little League games.  It’s okay because I’m a mother.  Any other singleton hanging around the batting cages necessitates an email blast to the community, snapping a secret picture with my iphone and possibly a call to 911.

Being a mother gets you a weight gain pass, too:  “Oh, did you see Mrs. X at the reunion?  Jeesh, did she blow up!  What?  They have three kids?  Are you kidding me?  She looks amazing for three kids.”

And a fashion pass.  “Mom jeans” didn’t just name themselves. Women who have a glass, or two, of wine every night could seem a little sad.  For mothers, it gets shrugged off as “therapeutic Mommy Juice”.  She’s just unwinding.

But best of all, being a certified mother allows me to make snarky and informed comments when I watch I Didn’t Know I was Pregnant, The Duggars: 19 Kids and Counting, Teen Mom, Teen Mom 2 or Supernanny.  And I can make grand, sweeping proclamations about random kids in public centering around what I wouldn’t put up with…and it counts.


2 Responses to “Being a mother is the pass jackpot”

  1. Laurel May 5, 2011 at 1:09 pm #

    All very true observations, but I am still ready to put mine up on eBay. Yesterday was disastorrific.

    • Hot damn, Charlotte Ann! May 5, 2011 at 3:42 pm #

      Yeah, you can try, but no one’s buying with a tagline like “disastorrific”. I’d rather just pick up some for free from Craigslist. At least I’d have the hope they could at least pick up pine cones or clean gutters.

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