The Many Titles of "Mom"

I recently pondered how my life has changed so drastically in the last 4 years. While 4 years can seem like an eternity when you think AHEAD, if you think backwards, it can seem like yesterday.

Four years ago this month I fell in love with my husband. It wasn’t planned…I really just wanted to sleep with him. But he seduced me with the song “Alcohol” by Brad Paisley on repeat and bottles of ice cold Bud Light. (Boy was he slick!) Six months later we married in Vegas and two months after that found out we were expecting our first son (to be named Gavin…not Borak as was Trent’s choice.) Since then we’ve added another penis to our family, pushing Oliver out in October of last year. (I like penises, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t need this many of them at once.)

Instead of leaving work and going home to drink a bottle of wine, eat a bag of tortilla chips and pass out, I now have the pleasure of doing all things associated with being a parent. With this pleasure comes many titles. Some of my favorites:

Photographer – taking pictures of all significant and insignificant events, including but not limited to, first steps, funny faces, toothy grins, major boo-boo’s, stuffy’s first swim, first pee in the potty, weird colored poop (to get opinions on what I may have fed them incorrectly) and just general everyday pictures to prove they are still alive.

Nurse – sponge baths, butt wiping, band aid applications, magic “kiss” medicine (not to be confused with what some nurses may do with other patients,) temperature probing, vomit analysis and cleanup, and minor surgery.

Negotiator – “Yes, you will take a bath. No, screaming at the top of your lungs will not change my mind. Neither will you trying to dive head first out of the tub. Yes, I do promise not to get it in your eyes. No, don’t pee in the tub. Yes, we have to wash your penis.” (Always back to the penis.)

Chef – I can expertly and efficiently nuke a corn dog in less than a minute. I can smear PB&J on a piece of bread with the best of them. I can put green food coloring in macaroni and cheese to help hide the bits of broccoli I sneak in. I should be on Hell’s Kitchen!

As the kids get older, my list of titles will continue to grow. I see Taxi driver, Judge, Analyst, and Bail Bondsman all in my future.

But above all, for the time being, I only want to be called one thing: Mommy.

My formal introduction

A long time ago, in a far away land, I wanted to be a writer. A really good writer. I wanted to have a column in the newspaper that people would clamor to read (think Dear Abby or Dave Barry but more sex.) Alas, I took the road traveled too much (a throwback to the famous footprints poem) and got married, moved to all corners of Illinois, got divorced, got remarried, popped out a couple of kids and settled in a town not quite known for famous journalists. So here I sit, approaching 30, selling tofu and ketchup, and missing that dream I once had. Alas, I jump on the bandwagon of bloggers.

Each article will differ. Some could be newsy, some editorial, and yet some others just everyday observations in the life of raising two boys. I promise not to become to Kathy Lee Giffordish (don’t want to lose my fan base,) but sometimes you just can’t help but find humor in what two kids under three say and do.