Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Motherhood Cracks Me Up

From the beginning, Mamas talk funny.  “Goo goo goo.  KutchieKutchieKooo.  I wov ooo – ”

Cherub understands perfectly, dampens diaper.

Other changes happen automatically in a new Mom’s vocabulary: ME, MYSELF and I are obliterated. The phrase, “Baby needs” is added.
And from now on, all “selfies,” if she has time for any, include Baby!

Six months after giving birth, the new Mom (in this case, me) becomes a dedicated speech and vocabulary teacher. “Da-da. Can ooo say Da-da?”
“Dink? You wanna dink? Say DINK!”
“Hot. No! Don’t touch! Hot! No, no!”

Two daughters turn three and four. It’s Saturday. Mom & Dad sleep late.
Mom, hearing chatter: “The girls are up – guess I’ll have to get up too.”
He: Wiping sleep from eyes. “What’s going on? They’re laughing in the kitchen.”
She: “I’ll go see.”
Down the hall, around the corner. Her eyes zoom in on a mutilated loaf of homemade bread. .

“You were hungry!”  

“We’re not hungry now, Mama!”  


Mom the Investigator: Three cherubs now, wee morning hours:
He, waking up: “I hear someone in the kitchen!”
She: "I heard it too. Sounds like shuffling feet. I think he’s about 3 years old.”
He: “He’s moving to the living room –  over by the fish tank.”
She: “I’d better check.” Props eyelids, meanders out. Focuses on cute little boy in blue blanket suit holding salt and pepper shakers.
Little Boy Blue: “Me salt and pepper fish!”

Duh. We had fish for supper last night.

Three years later: Little Boy Blue walks home from school all by himself (these were the days when it was safe).

LBB, excitedly: “Mom, MOM!”
Mom: “What is it, my dear child?”
LBB: “Can you fix this cat?”

 Mom, in unbelief, eyeing cat curled into a ball, almost smiling with eyes closed -- STIFF AS A BOARD –  held lovingly by LBB:  “Uh….where did you find him?”

LBB, proud of his find: “On the way home! He was by the curb!”

Mom, still in shock: “Uh…. Uh….Ugh. I’m sorry, but I can’t fix him. He’s….uh…. dead!”

LBB: “Can we take him to the vet?”

Mom: “Uh… when something is dead, it’s heart isn’t beating anymore. He can’t breathe. He can’t eat. I’m sorry, but the vet can’t fix him either. He has gone to cat heaven. We’ll have a funeral for him, poor thing.”

Mom the Chauffeur: Driving teens to school, 15 years after dramatic 17-hour birth of the first one.

(Note: Promotion to Chauffeur includes the description, “Fuddy-Duddy.”) Her hair sticks out, she forgets her lipstick, her shoes have laces, and she drives an old car (seven years, according to teenagers, is old — very old).

Teenies, pressing themselves down as low as they can in the back seat: “Mom! Go around the back way! We don’t want anyone to see us!”

Mom the Culinary Expert: A few years later, at suppertime.

Teenie #4: “Why can’t we ever have MASHED potatoes instead of plain old BOILED potatoes?”

Culinary Expert: “It’s extra work, but I’ll make an extra effort next time, just for you.”

Next day: Culinary Expert serves mashed potatoes. Notices Teenie #4 not eating potatoes.

Culinary Expert: “How come you’re not eating the mashed potatoes?”

Teenie: “I’m tired of potatoes.”

Motherhood: In 30 years, all cherubs pass GO at age 18.

"Oh Hello Husband. It’s time for us now....
Always and Forever."

No comments:

Post a Comment