Saturday, June 27, 2009

Momversation: Why isn't just being a mom enough?

I love It's a panel of mommy bloggers that get together, pose a question, and then a few of them answer it in video form in the "episodes." I highly recommend checking it out (particularly the one about telling your kids where babies come from...even my husband laughed out loud at that one).

One of this week's questions got me into that "I'm over tired and think I'm being really deep" mood, so here are my thoughts.

The Question: Why isn't just being a mom enough?

I'll admit to having said "just a mom" and not really thinking twice about it. Never in a derogatory way, mind you, but more like "I really want to be just a mom."

But, watching this episode, it occurred to me that what I do in my professional life is my "Just A." I'm Just A Billing Clerk in a law firm. If I get hit by a bus tomorrow, sure there would be the token sadness from my co-workers, laments from people who really don't like me now and couldn't care less as long as I get their bills right and out in a timely manner, but once I've died a tragic death, "wow, she was an amazing person." But then they'd hire someone to replace me, remember my many downfalls and obnoxious behaviors and move on about their lives.

I get hit by a bus tomorrow, and no one will ever replace me to my son. I have a wonderful family who would, of course, step up and help out my grieving husband (who would remarry for the sake of our son, but always remember me as his only true love and mourn my loss until the day he dies). But when he falls down on the playground, my son won't look for the new hire mommy. He'll still cry for me. No one will ever kiss it better the way I do. And not that I'm the end all be all of mommy existence, but I'm HIS mommy.

How can that ever be termed a "Just A" in life? Being a parent is the only irreplaceable job in the entire world. There's nothing casual or unimportant in that at all.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Perspective Changes Everything

Last night I was nostalgically listening to MJ on my iPod and the song You Are Not Alone came up. It used to be that when I would hear "love songs" the love was always romantic love. but lately when I hear this song, it reminds me of my dad: me mourning him, even eight years later, and him reminding me that he's never gone away. So there I was driving along, stereo blasting, singing at the top of my lungs, and bawling my eyes out (very reminiscent of the Carpenters scene in Tommy Boy):

...You never said goodbye. Someone tell me why did you have to go...
You are not alone. I am here with you...I can hear your prayers. Your burdens I will bear...

And then I remembered when I was pregnant with Walker and the same thing happened with I Don't Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith. I only ever thought of that song in reference to a couple never wanting to be apart. But when I was pregnant, all I could think of was watching my baby sleep and never wanting to stop watching:

...I could spend my life in this sweet surrender...And then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together...I don't want to miss one smile. I don't want to miss one kiss...

Tommy Boy again. And to this day, any time that song comes on, I think of my son and there go the water works again.

One last one: Heaven by Los Lonely Boys. When my Gram died at 93 years old, my uncle, her youngest, really wanted this song played at the service, which I thought was strange. Really? An upbeat kinda party song at a funeral? And then I downloaded it and listened to the lyrics:

...Save me from this prison, Lord...'cause only you can save me now from this misery...I've been lost in my own place and I'm getting weary...I've been locked up way too long in this crazy world...

Needless to say, we played this at her graveside as we released 93 balloons to celebrate her life.

Funny how growing up and changing circumstances makes you reevaluate even the smallest of things.

Thursday, June 25, 2009


So this morning I woke up and told Travis "I totally dreamed that Farrah Fawcett died. Was that on the radio or something?"

"No," he replied. "It must've been a dream."

Just now, I found this article.

Farrah Fawcett died this morning at 9:30 PST, which, I think, is 10:30 MST, four hours AFTER I had my dream.

How weird is that??

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Weekend Exposure: What have you let fall by the wayside?

I haven't done these in months...hell, I haven't blogged in months. But I figured I would catch up on the Weekend Exposure project. Learn about it here.

House Work by Ping Timeout

Quick But Cute

The other day Walker and I were walking past our kitchen window, where I have two little ceramic chickens. Walker pointed at one chicken and very clearly said "Duck."

"Yes!!" I praised him. "That duck is called a chicken." I figured run with it. He's 16 months old, for the love of Pete. He saw the similarities and said the closest thing he had a word for.

He looked at the chicken again, then at me and corrected me: