Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Today I pose this question, if a child yells "Mom?!" repeatedly in a forest, will a mom answer?
Okay, well the knee jerk response will probably be, "Why is this child in a forest? That seems rather dangerous. And sad. Is he lost? Where is his mother?"
Fine. So, hypothetically, if a child were in a very safe and well lit forest and had a cell phone on him but instead of using it he chose to yell "Mom?!" repeatedly, would a mom answer?
Odds are, yes. Somewhere within a 1 mile radius of said child are approximately 10 mothers awaiting to spat a blind response of "Yeah?"
Every mother has at one time or another been in some public venue, distracted by her surroundings, and answered the beacon of some random child.
"Yeah? Oh, sorry. Wrong mom."
When our children are babies we mothers wait in bated breath for that precious moment when they gurgle out their very first "mama". Never has anything sweeter ever been said. It melts us to our very core.
Strangely, though, 9 times out of 10, their first word isn't "mama". God help us, it is typically "dada". Why, yes. Why shouldn't their first word be "dada"? I mean after all, their father was the one who carried them in their womb and developed every little organ, tissue, fiber, hair, nail, soul for the better part of one year. Yes, the daddy IS the one who's skin was stretched beyond repair out of pure love for his offspring. And, daddy WAS the one who sprang their pride and joy from their very loins. Of COURSE our baby's first word should be "dada".
Maybe it's easier to say. Mama. Dada. Mama. Dada.
Nope. Don't think so.
Well, be that as it may, I suppose we mommies should be careful what we wish for. Because once our sweet little boogers have fully captured the essence of cooing out "mama" and watching as our hearts melt a little more each time they say it, they never stop saying it. EVER.
Take tonight, for instance. From the moment I picked my children up from child care until their angelic little backsides hit their mattresses, I'm guessing the "mom" count somewhere in the arena of 5000. Give or take a few.
It's freaking exhausting.
But, as moms do, we learn avoidance techniques. Or, something you men may better understand, selective deafness. Oh, yeah, we're on to you.
So, back to tonight in mother-of-the-year-land, once my darlings were fed and settled in (or so I thought), I opted for a little me time. I plugged my head phones into my iPad, cozied into the couch and logged onto Pinterest. Life was good. For possibly 4 minutes, or less. I'm not certain.
Kelly Clarkson was yelling at me about being stronger when all the while child #1 and #2 had been jockeying for my attention from the floor of their bedroom.
To no avail. I was in my happy place. Don't judge me.
Next I know, #1 is limping into the living room holding the back of his head. And, in a much more dramatic performance, #2 scooches in on the floor dragging what appears to be a dead limb behind him. (It was very much alive, I assure you.)
Apparently I had missed a modern day throw down the likes that "Wrestling at the Chase" had never seen in the mere 4 (or whatever) minutes I had been out of touch.
It would appear that perhaps I had become too adept at my selective deafness.
"Mom! Why didn't you answer me? Mom! Mom! He pushed my head into the dresser. Mom, it hurts so bad! Is it bleeding? I feel a little sick. Is there blood? Mom?"
Nope. No blood. Lil' bit of a bump. Awesome. Now for #2.
"Mmoooaaaaammmmyyyyy. Aaa ah haaa. He eeee hurt me! Mom I hate him so much!"
"No you don't."
"Mommy, moooommmy! He broked my leg! Look mom it's broke!!"
"No it's not. You're standing on it."
"Why didn't you answer us? We were both yelling for you and you didn't answer!"
Two things come to mind, DCFS and that cute outfit I didn't get to pin because I was interrupted.
"Listen. Here's the thing, mom couldn't hear you because I had my headphones on." Great, now I'm referring to myself as mom. "And, quite frankly, you were both supposed to be in bed." Yeah....so who's really at fault here, huh?
"Come on guys. Back to bed. It's been a long one. Can you please just ease up on the yelling of 'Mom'? Please?"
Once we have all finally settled in I hear #2 yell from his bed, "Julie? I need to go to the bathroom!"
I shit you not.