Awww...what a cute baby!

In yapping with my son yesterday I was reminded of something I've wanted to write more about.

I can't remember exactly what we were talking about but he said, "yeah, that's back when grandma used to love me". Now, to keep this in perspective, it was said lightly in a joking manner. We weren't having a serious conversation and my son, who is 21, wasn't upset and feeling unloved.

Even still, him saying it in that moment kind of took me aback. I answered him, saying, "you mean that's back when you didn't have a mind of your own and blindly adored your grandma, worshipping the ground she walked upon. Grandma still loves you tons, she doesn't like you having a mind of your own".

Watching my mom with my son as he grew, watching her with cousin's children and my brother's daughters helped me see what happened with my mom and I as I grew up. I came to realize my mom is one of those women who LOVES babies, is actually fantastic with them, but finds they lose their charm as they grow up into little humans with minds of their own. My mom is the type of woman who pines for the days when the kids were little and wishes time could stand still when it comes to babies. Just the type who could love any baby, even babies that aren't biologically hers.

I think if I were to say what I'm about to say now, my mom would say it isn't true, but I feel so certain many years back she told me a little something from the days her and my dad were attempting to adopt their second child, me.

I'm sure she told me that the woman interviewing my parents almost didn't allow her to adopt again because, if you can imagine, the woman felt as if my mom wanted a baby exactly like the first one she'd adopted. I remember having a wow moment when she told me, not receiving the moral of the story quite the way my mom had intended. My mom's intent was to suggest "can you believe some crazy woman thinking such a thing of me? We almost didn't get you because of her!" whereas I had a light bulb moment because there was a time (sorry sis if you're reading) that I suffered through countless comparisons to my old sister, countless times I stomped my feet and refused to bow at the altar of the reluctant golden child. Eventually my older sister also got too big for her britches and she too pissed my mom off (although not sure ever as bad or as much as I did) and I know I had my turns as golden child but never again like the days as a baby and toddler, where carrying the ketchup to the table or drying a dish is a treat, doing a chore for mom is an honour and a privilege.

Some women really only like babies, are not ideal parent-for-life material. Hey, to be fair, there are some women who aren't fond of babies but blossom into pretty cool moms as the kids grow up. Not to say these people can't do a perfectly acceptable job parenting but the whole thing works a whole lot better if moms can enjoy every age, embrace the entire parenting experience. If we can't, we should at least be honest with ourselves about it so we can better compensate for our shortcomings as parents.

Yes, believe it or not, we moms do have them.