My Name is Mommy

Most days, I think about the fact that I’m the mom in the house about as often as a student thinks, “huh, I’m a student”, or an office worker thinks, “huh, I’m a cube filler”, or a dentist thinks, “huh, I’m a dentist”. (Fascinating reading here, I know. Stick with me.) So, basically, not very often does that fact that I’m the mom cross my mind.

Occasionally, it occurs to me because something bad or disgusting has happened in the house and I’m the only adult there to deal with it. On those days it’s like, “Dang it! I’m the mom, then, aren’t I? Guess I can’t expect the 2 year old to plunge the toliet.”

Last night, however, is an example of the more desired “I’m the mom” moments. I’d actually tried to get to bed at a decent hour. It ended up being about 12:15, but that’s at least in the right direction. So, I’m lying in bed when at about 1am, Jake starts crying and yelling. I head into the boys’ bedroom and he’s crying and, of course, wants his Daddy. “Daddy’s asleep.” “But I want Daddy.” “Sorry, I’m all you get.”

I never did figure what was wrong, but we had a good snuggle and I sang to him for about an hour. Every time I’d stop, he’d wake a little and snuggle in closer. Every time I started up again, he’d settle in and his breathing would get deeper, and I knew I was exactly what he needed in that moment. I did realize, though, that it’s been forever since I just sang out loud (without being dictated songs by what I can play on the guitar). I’ve forgotten so many songs! So, Jake’s serenade included songs by Weezer, James Taylor, Carolyn Arends, Damien Rice, a few Christmas carols, “Moon River” and “You are my sunshine.” I need to brush up on a few more selections.

So, there was a great “I’m the mom” moment.

All of my efforts to get to bed earlier were in vain, though. I was back to my bed by 2am, and proceeded to spend the next 3 hours being ticked that I couldn’t fall asleep. I tried some music on the iPod. Tried a podcast with soothing talkers. I tried just lying there. Nothing. And then we’re back to another, “Dang it, I’m the mom” moment. Because the morning still comes whether or not I’ve slept, and those kids still want to be taken care of. Sheesh.