Mom ~noun ~ One who does whatever it takes to get whatever it is done. Period.
Often I have to take a step back and remind myself that I am only 27 years old. I open my mouth, and suddenly I sound like my Mother. I find myself saying all of those stereotypical phrases I claimed I would never feel the need to say. My way of thinking, my perception on parenting, and the way I process situations, whether it be in a shopping mall, on Television, or generally in the way that I handle my children, It’s these moments that remind me that I am a mother, the things I say flow naturally, as if they are built in, it becomes part of my vocabulary, and there is no stopping them as these thoughts start to process in my medulla oblongata (or some other part of my brain that might still possibly be functioning), and they aggressively begin to roll out of my mouth. The conformed behaviour of children takes us through so many challenges, and as fun as it may be, I fail to control my inner “Momster” at times.
Let’s elaborate, shall we;
The Words “NO” and “DON’T” have become a second language to me.
“If you don’t pick up your toys, you are not getting any juice or dinner!” (okay, first of all, I would never starve my child, but I subconsciously intended it when making that statement.. Momster!)
“If you don’t get up off this floor, I am going to leave you here” (no I won’t)
“These toys aren’t going to pick themselves up” (no, but apparently I will)
“Don’t make me count till 3” (and begins the slowest, loudest, most intimidating “ONE , TWO, THREE” of your life, hoping with everything you have got, that they will retreat)
“Do you have ornaments for ears?”
“Fine! Don’t listen to me and you will see what happens!” (Please listen, please listen, please listen!)
“I am doing this for you own good!” (and mine)
“If you hit me your hand will fall off”
“What part of NO don’t you understand?”
“How many times do I have to tell you?”
“Because I said so, that’s why!”
The previous 3 sentences are usually expressed all together in one sentence.
“I am going to tell your Father when he gets home”
I told him.
In addition to my inner Momster; I have had a great deal of moments of realisation too – I certainly knew I was a Mom when….
On the rare occasion that I attempted to go clubbing (I think that’s what they still call it?) I didn’t know what to do with my hands, and I couldn’t wait to go home to my kids despite the excitement of having a night out.
I saw that 13 year old girl at the shopping mall wearing her crop top, exposing her entire mid-section, and all I wanted to do was give that poor girl my jacket. (This used to be me, and now I know why my mother and father would always cringe at the idea) (sorry Mom and Dad!)
I hid away when eating chocolate.
I ran towards the vomit, instead of away from it.
I stepped on a Lego.
Congratulations, you’re a Mom.
On a more serious note, throughout all of these challenges, I thank my Mother. It is because of her, together with the remarkable support from my Dad, that I have an abundance of knowledge and a powerful influence on my children’s upbringing. I hope that in the course of time, my children will ultimately have the respect for me as I did for my Mom.
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