Being Mama

Despite the air of uncertainty that seemed prevalent in the better portion my childhood, there were a few things that remained constant.  One of those was my desire to be a mother.  Desire probably isn't the best choice of words, to be quite honest.  My need to be a mother is decidedly more appropriate.  I needed to be a mother.  I needed to prove the statistics wrong.  I needed to prove that a girl like me...with an abusive past...who was raised by a single mother...perpetually from the wrong side of the tracks...could be a good mother.  If we go further with this, it would be logical to say that I believe the wounds of my childhood could be erased by me becoming a mother.  Those of you with a better grip on all things psychological, feel free to chime in and correct me if that seems out of line.  Makes perfect sense to me.  Who doesn't look back on his/her childhood and see the things his/her parents did/didn't do and resolve to take a different path?  Perhaps some are more conscious of this than others.  Perhaps some of us get too preoccupied with introspection...which is why some of us turn to blogging.  See, it all washes out in the end.  Back to the story....

I guess if things had been different...if Mr. Snark and I had not married while still in college, we might have had babies right away.  We had a couple of scares, before we actually conceived Y1, along the way.  In fact, I think we probably had one each year before I got pregnant.  I say "scares" because I was the thought of dealing with a pregnancy with both of us in school...no insurance...campus jobs...was TERRIFYING!  As afraid of the possibility as I might have been, when it became apparent that I wasn't expecting, it was always a disappointment.  I remember having a couple of "come aparts."  I think it was more about wondering if it would ever be our turn...not knowing if I really could get pregnant.  Let's be honest...you can't look at a woman and tell if she's reproductively challenged.  I can't, anyway.  None of the women from whom I am directly descended had trouble with procreation, but that didn't mean the same would hold true for me.  All in the Good Lord's good timing and as it turns out, my ability to get pregnant was about as easy as falling out of the bed.  Scandalously easy...and that is no hyperbole!

I don't know if I have navigated my way through Motherhood any better than my own mother.  Her journey was so different from mine, and in some ways, harder.  The circumstances of my life are going to make my journey easier and I'm thankful.  Easier doesn't necessarily equate better.  I know easy recipes for Chicken Parmigiana that do not taste better than the more time consuming and labor intensive ones.  Sometimes, easier just means easier.  At least she had the advantage of bringing up daughter...her female mind could understand our female minds.  My female mind is probably going to be warped beyond recognition by the time Y1 and Y2 leave the nest...one running up the back of the other's head to be the first one out the door!  I am comforted by the fact that we have many good friends, who will act as witness to our efforts in raising them well...should the need ever arise.  What is it about that XY chromosomal arrangement?  Why can't it easily translate to the XX?  The answer to this, and just nearly every other question about human nature, can probably be blamed on Eve and her regretably voracious appetite! 

Being Mama is a very good thing and again, good doesn't mean easy.  Good doesn't mean neat and tidy, either.  Being Mama is hard...and it's messy...and it's chaotic...and unpredictable...and frustrating...and mind numbing.  Despite all of that...the mystery sticky spots on the counter tops and floors, the unidentifiable odors that originate from their side of the house, the one-sided conversations that they have with the athletes on TV...I wouldn't trade it for all the sweet tea in Dixie!  I thought I knew what love felt like, how laughter sounded, the power of a hug, what happiness looked like....and then I became Mama. 

This is a little late in coming, but you can't rush genius (Overconfident, party of one?).  I got gifts and cards for Mother's Day and I'm thankful to be remembered.  What I'm most thankful for, though, is the chance to even be a Mother.  So, to my dearest Crash (inside joke), thank you for looking at me and seeing whatever it was that let you know I was the one to bear and Mama your children.  To my dearest Boyos...not that you really had any choice in the matter...thank you for letting me be your mama.  It has been and will probably always be my greatest joy. 

Well, at least until the grandbabies arrive and you aren't *quite* as important as you once were. ;) 

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