The World Belongs to Mothers

The baby-with-the-fussy-cries,-the-possible-ear-infection-or-maybe-it's-just-teeth-or-maybe-it's-a-virus? on his birthday. Isn't he a doll?

It's a very rare thing, but Mommy is going off the clock for a bit this weekend. I'm headed to a hotel with a good girlfriend for a scrapbooking, eating, shopping extravaganza! Yeah me! She's an amazing friend and mother of two, and we both need a break.

I often say it, and I really believe it: The world belongs to mothers. Good mothers are a loving, influential, resilient tribe. We're up six times a night, fine after that first cup of coffee and off to conquer the world. We're often the last one to bed and the first one up. We're the keeper of the Social Security numbers, the correct medicinal doses, the shoes sizes and the ever-growing files of our children's likes and dislikes. We're the cooks, the maids, the nurses, the chauffeurs, the seasonal clothes switchers: the choreographers of our childrens' lives.

But the heart swells never stop. Just now, at 7:32 a.m., after being awake since about 5:45 a.m. after a fitful night with the baby, I see my Maxwell headed down those oak stairs. And my heart takes flight. That kid is so cute!!!! And he's mine. And now, "Mommy, I'm hungry.... Mommy, I'm hungry..."

My heart sometimes feels two sizes too big.

Now, dear readers, sometimes under this mountain of responsibility that we call motherhood festers resentment. But it's a fixable thing. It's necessary for me to take my moments, to write in my journal, to read a magazine or paint my toenails. It's necessary for me to say, "So long, baby-with-the-fussy-cries,-the-possible-ear-infection-or-maybe-it's-just-teeth-or-maybe-it's-a-virus?, I've got to go for 36 hours and find my self."

Everyone will be fine, and I'll be back.

Oh, I'll be back.