Bumper sticker fist-bump

Bumper sticker fist bump

I pulled into a sweet parking spot at Target, giddy to be so close to the entrance and right next to the cart return. As I put the car in park, about to gather my ErgoBaby and grab W, I looked up and smirked. It really was the perfect spot. The bumper stickers on the van in front of me read:

“Breastmilk: it’s never been recalled”
“Cloth, Love & Wear” and
“Wearing is caring”

I liked this mom already, and I didn’t even know her. During the rest of our Target outing (during which, of course, W pooped on my nice chambray shirt) I smiled at the other moms we passed…imagining each of them as the breastfeeding, baby-wearing and loving wonders they are.

As I drove off, I gave a little nod of agreement and raised a fist-bump towards those bumper sticker truths.

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G is for gratitude

gratitude

Though the title is sarcastically crooned to the tune of the annoying alphabet CD that W loves (if you’ve been in my car you probably still have nightmares thinking about it), I really mean it – “G” is for gratitude.  That is, the immense gratitude I have for the phenomenal women in my life.  Ya, there are a lot of sacred bonds in life…but when I’m running low on sleep and and I can’t sing another round of the ABC’s, nothing is more important than the bond I have with the women on this journey with me.  From my own mum, to my boobie group mamas, my neighborhood ladies and my girls…you ladies are the shit.  Srsly.

Though we may not see each other every day – nap-time routines seem to trump coffee dates these days.  And we might not talk on the phone – who has time for that now that W is starting to crawl?  Frankly, we might only know each other through Facebook – but I think that counts these days, right? Despite all that, we might as well be life-long friends.  Because the bond forged through a shared experience so traumatic and funny and gross and awesomely beautiful makes us part of the oldest club around.  Motherhood.

So…

To the woman who gave birth to me and who still drives an hour a day, every day, to spend time with us.  To the women who walked through every inch of Babies ‘R Us with me and told me what I really neededwho hand-delivered homemade dinners for three weeks after W was born…who have heard every minute detail of my birth story and seen my boobs more than they can count…who laugh with me when I get pooped on and still sit next to me at lunch…who fiercely defend my right to parent in a way that’s best for me even if it’s different from theirs…who offer kind words of support…who acknowledge when things are plain old shitty…who have taught me about compassion, humor and acceptance…who just listen.  To the women who just are: thank you.

Knowing they’ve you’ve got my back – that you’re standing alongside me as we face the challenges that come with each and every next step – that’s enough to remind me of the strength, beauty and sheer awesomeness I posses as a mother.  You remind me I’m doing a good job at this whole “life-sustaining” business.  And while you’re here, let me take the opportunity to tell you that YOU’RE doing a great job, too.  

Gratefully yours,

momME

image from http://legendofanomad.files.wordpress.com/2013/01/gratitude.png

All my single ladies…

Unlike B’s club-banger, if you’re a single mom you’re probably NOT up in the club. Most new moms, single or not, can barely make it to the grocery store without forgetting to brush your teeth, let alone get dolled up to hit the club. But I digress – mommy outings aren’t the point if this post.

This afternoon my husband suggested I go take a bath and have some “mommy time.” That small gesture got me thinking. Again, I have the privilige of having someone there 24/7. Bottom line is, single moms, you have my utmost respect.  Hats off to you.  I often hear mothers comment, sometimes lament, that even with a supportive partner the mother often ends up shouldering the most responsibility.  Especially if you’re EBF (I’ve deduced that this means “exclusively breast feeding” – future post to come about the ridiculous world of acronyms that accompany parenting blogs!). But let’s get serious, that’s not the same and single-moms are serious warrior-goddesses.

I’m not going to muse more, frankly, because I can’t begin to know the challenges single-moms face. But this popped into my head and I couldn’t pass the chance to verbalize this.

Rock on, girl.

Yours truly,
MomME