"Mama!"

 I've wanted children for as long as I can remember.  Taking care of kids is something that I've always loved to do.  I couldn't wait until I was old enough to babysit, and I took my Red Cross babysitting course very seriously.  I came to each job equipped  with a bag of toys and games, a binder with all the children's names, a rewards chart with stickers, and a 'treasure box'.  I was 12.  I was extatic when I was finally old enough to teach swim lessons for PP&R, and I was one of the few who chose to work with the youngest age groups.  I loved it.  I relished my time nannying during and after college.  It was a job that I could have done for much longer.  

Then we got pregnant with Cooper.  While the timing was a 'surprise', I'll never forget the first time I saw him on the sonogram screen, or heard his little heartbeat.  I was thrilled.  And when he was born, it surprised no one that I loved being a mommy.  Every minute of it - even when I was miserable from breastfeeding and sleepless nights.  And then, finally, the moment we all wait for: Cooper said "Mama" (although don't ask me how old he was because I have no idea, and if I wrote it down somewhere it would be a miracle).  You'd have to be made of stone to not melt the first time (or even after the hundreth) you hear that little baby voice talking about you.  It's the sweetest sound.  Clara took her time saying "Mama", so I think I was even more delighted once she did.  But she's at the age, now, where she's realized the value of being able to get my attention whenever she wants.  She seems awed by the cause and effect of it, and the fascination doesn't seem to be showing signs of waning.  Cooper speaks in an endless stream of conciseness all. day. long, and each thought or question starts off the same way.  "Mama, how far is it to Mars?", "Mama, is the Easter bunny really a giant rabbit?", "Mama, what is the circle of life?", "Mama, I sure love chocolate milk.", "Mama, why do girls change their name when they get married?", "Mama, did you ever notice that Phineas makes funny faces and Ferb makes funny voices?", "Mama, when can I ride the bus to school?", "Mama, why are all the songs on the radio [sung by] girls?", "Mama, why do boys have nibbles [nipples] if they don't ever feed babies?", "Mama, how come our house doesn't have an upstairs?", "Mama, why can't I marry my sister?",......

 

I find myself, suddenly (or maybe not so suddenly), exhausted and disenchanted with hearing that word over, and over, and over and over every day.  When did this happen?!  No one tells you that what you once so eagerly anticipated will become like nails on a chalkboard someday.  Don't get me wrong, I adore my children.  I would do anything for them.  But it is no wonder that I have them in bed before 7:30 most nights.  It's as much for me as it is for them!!  It's entirely possible that if I don't get a break from "Mama...maaammma...MAAMAAAAAAAAA!" at the end of each day, my head would explode.  So I'm thankful for my quiet evenings (and the occasional glass of wine), and by the time the sun comes up the next morning, I actually look forward to Cooper bounding into our room to say "Mama, I'm awake!", and the moment when I open Clara's door and she greets me with "Mama!!" 

And I know I'm not alone...which is why I wrote this.  A shout out to all the other exhausted mommies out there.  We've got the hardest job in the world (okay, maybe second hardest - I wouldn't want to be President!!), and it's always nice to know that we're all in the same boat.

I think I'll go have that glass of wine, now...