Mother’s Day

I love Mother’s Day, not becuase I’m a mother, or because I have a deep rooted sense of the holiday from sharing it with my own mother. I love Mother’s Day because I get to read all the insane blogs, newspaper articles, see commercials and newspaper adds all telling us that we are overworked, underpaid and generally a hot freakin mess.  But … its ok, becuase we are mothers and we are the best mothers our kids could ever have.
I don’t remember who told me this, but someone once, told me “you get the kid you were supposed to have”. 
I think about that at 12:30 am when my 13 month old still gets up on a semi regular basis to scream in his crib for 30 minutes just to make sure that regardless of how early I go to bed I do not get a full nights sleep. 

I think about it when my child eats next to nothing and I’m convinced that at any moment the Pediatrician is going to tell me I’m starving him. 

I think about it when I bring him to the grocery store and he is an angel, smiling at every single person we pass by so much so that I receive at least three compliments per shopping trip at what a wonderful, beautiful, well behaved, charming boy I have. Yes my darlin husband that is why I take him shopping with me, its because I get a ridiculous amount of praise for him and regardless of the fact that I am wearing the sweat pants I slept in and I only half the time remember to put on a bra somehow its like I’m a rockstar or I suppose traveling with a rockstar.  

I have the child I was supposed to have.  And he has the mother he was supposed to have as well.  I am flustered, rarely put together, barely functioning, always rushed, endlessly patient, borderline neurotic and one bad day away from a padded room.  But I am, his mother, with all my faults and all my pluses I am his and he is mine.  I am not the mother I thought I would be.  There are lots of things that I think I should be doing more of, better, less of … fill in the blank.  But I am the best person for him.  I continue to be better, to do better, to seem better at least to the unsuspecting person in the grocery store if for no other reason than I can lord it over other mothers who would see me and think I have my shit together ( NO WORRIES ) that won’t happen anytime soon.  But for now I just am what I am, a semi new mom with little experience, working on the fly and faking it till I make it. 
Happy Mothers Day to the new mom’s the old mom’s the people who don’t think they should be mom’s and the ones who pray to be mom’s.  It is the hardest, best, worst, most rewarding thing you will ever do with  your life.