I am this and not much else.

Mother. Mom. The Memee.

For me that was not taking so much as a tylenol for a wicked headache because it's the week the kidneys are developing...no caffeine...no anti perspirant because that shit has aluminum in it. It means reading every book and settling in on attachment parenting...It is no drugs during labor because I want to imprint and nurse at that perfect first moment. It is getting in people's faces at the McDonald's playland. It is nursing on planes, in line at It's a Small World, the mall, under security cameras on purpose, standing up, lying down, telling the world to get over it. It's going toe to toe with I don't know how many doctors about why I won't immunize my baby. It means teaching my kids at home so they won't be peer dependant. Screw that.

It is candling ears, bad haircuts, cooking everything imaginable, never doing enough laundry, telling people masturbation won't really send you to hell, driving a bus as my primary vehicle. It is telling the church ladies to basically kiss my ass because I did not have this child to leave him in a nursery with you. It is allowing my soul to be stolen in secret and putting on a good face. It is reading at a child's comprehension level to increase knowledge and make all those connections in little brains. Pouring over curriculum catalogs and individualizing education plans. Checking for lice, worms, and taking care of business. It is signing consent for earrings and tattoos because I don't want the world to tell my kids what to do. Don't tell me what to do either. It's dreaming happiness and peace for them and raising people deliberately. It is me being so thankful to them for saving me. It is love that I cannot describe with all the metaphors, similes, and maybe some personification.

 I am not much, but I will stand up next to any mother. My heart is full.

 I am not ready for my kids to leave me. I admit it. Ready or not, though, it is happening. It happens sooner in divorce because of visitation and all. I am grieving this with all the stages...anger, sadness, some bargaining, and I haven't seen very much acceptance. If sheer will could do it, I would be there. But, alas. I deeply admire and respect the mothers that have walked this out gracefully. You go. Pray for me. I need it.