Mom to my son

Being a mom is exciting and fulfilling, and being a mom is exhausting and thankless. It's my greatest accomplishment. It's my biggest stress. It's what keeps me going when all of my energies are depleted. I love my responsibilities to my son. I made this choice. I consciously made and carried him. I sat through my 12 hours of labor, after 36 weeks and 2 days. I pushed him out myself, just after the epidural wore off. I did all of that. I got stitched up, wore hospital panties with ice packs in them, and battled hemorrhoids. I earned my title as mother. I would fight to the death for my son. I would walk through fire on glass and push a mountain out of his way with my bare hands. I am committed to the decision I made to have him. I love him.

My son is the biggest manipulator, con man, and charmer the world has ever seen. It's dangerous how he convinces us all to do things with such grace and ease. We are like mindless zombies marching to the beat he allows us. It's amazing. The dimples, the eyes with the long lashes, the pearly white smile, and his adorable one liners are enough to have you writing him checks for your life savings. He's smart. He's so incredibly smart, in more than just a con artist way. At 3 years old he's reading short stores, knows more than 50 words by sight, and can work all the electronics in this house, including my Blackberry. He's a great little decision maker, always goes with his first mind. He's also empathic, and at the end of the day he just wants to make sure that I'm happy.

I love being a mom. I love my son. I love our roles, and yes, I am exhausted, sleep deprived, and guzzling coffee!