One of the many strange and life-adjusting things that come with having a child is learning to say the words “My Daughter” or “My Son” or be referred to as someone’s “Mom,” and not turn your head around, looking for your own Mom.
Let’s be honest. It’s weird. Suddenly you go from just being you, if you’re anything like me, not even particularly enjoying being referred to as “Mrs. X” – isn’t that your Mother-in-law?
And then bam.
You deliver this baby and you’re a Mom.
But that doesn’t mean you automatically feel like a Mom. Even when you’re pacing the halls at 3am, or pushing the stroller around town like a zombie, with saggy leaking boobies. Nope. Even then, it can still not feel that real.
At least that’s how I was.
I giggled after saying “My daughter,” I felt like having an out-of-body experience when saying the words “I’m a mom.” Right? Right.
So then I thought that maybe with more time and once darling daughter started referring to me as “Mommy,” it would feel really real by then.
Truth is, I think by the time she started referring to me as “Mommy,” and trust me, I LOVE it, I’d forgotten that it all felt so strange. I just wasn’t focusing on it anymore.
Until the day came when I received a letter in the mail about darling daughter’s new teacher for this coming Fall.
Back to school supplies?
Maybe even a small backpack?
For real? All of a sudden those crazy “back to school” commercials are going to start applying to moi?
And then…then…I received an email from another parent in darling daughter’s class, about scheduling playdates for the classmates.
I’m a Mom with a kid in school?
Suddenly I am not getting report cards, or sitting at home with sweaty palms as my mom goes to my parent teacher conference to learn, once again, I’m talking too much in class?
It’s going to be ME going to parent teacher conferences?
A mom with a kid in school?
Sure, we’re talking about preschool, I’m not getting totally carried away and shipping her off to “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.”
But still, it’s just the beginning.
And it feels real now.
But still a little strange.
Am I really mature enough to be a mom with a kid in school? Can I giggle during parent teacher conferences? What if I’d rather be “back to school” shopping for said daughter? And myself along the way (who doesn’t love Fall clothes?)
What if I’m still passing notes, but this time, not in class but in business meetings?
Hopefully my husband will set the better example on that one……