I know that mothers are right because I have one, and I am one. It’s not like me to mention that right out of the gate. The part about being a mom, I mean. You know I’m right.
After our son was born, our doula came for a post-partum visit. One comment she made stuck hard in my brain. She said it can take around two years for your ego to catch up with you becoming a parent. I’d say that’s about right. Our son is just over a year-and-a-half old and I’m just now talking about him in public. Sometimes I feel like a celebrity (okay, I feel like this quite often, and you should really stop encouraging me) who adopted a child in secret and doesn’t want the paparazzi hounding her. But I am, in truth, secretive with strangers about the kid because I can’t stand being labeled. And if someone labels me a mom? I might as well sport elastic waist jeans and switch to decaf.
Back to the part about me being right. I mean about moms being right.
My mom tells me periodically that I should write more. I tell myself that I should write more. You should see all the letters I’ve started writing you, then never finished. I didn’t grow up with this emotion installed, but I feel guilty that I haven’t written you more. Or ever.
It’s no longer 1996, so starting a blog isn’t such a big deal. But maybe now I can free myself of this guilt. I’m writing this for you.