Some People Call Me a Space Cowboy

I’ve made no secret of the fact that lately I have felt a little lost just being a stay-at-home mom.  This afternoon, Man threw up on me…and I was struck with a realization.  Yes, it took an Exorcist-like scene of projectile vomiting for me to come to the conclusion that I am not just a mom.

When the kiddies scrape their knees, bump their heads and puke all over me, I am a doctor.

I answer their important questions about cheese and dirt; I read to them; we do lots of puzzles and play games. I am a teacher.

They ask me to make French toast for breakfast and chicken nuggets for lunch. I am a chef.

“Shoulders, shoulders!” they beg for a ride. They climb all over me, clamoring for leverage.  I am a jungle gym.

They draw on the walls, spill their juice and splatter yogurt on the floor. I am a maid.

They snuggle up to me and fall asleep on my chest, breathing delicious little breaths. I am a pillow.

Grabbing and pushing leads to tears and fights.  I am a referee.

Man is upset; someone doesn’t want to play with him.  I am a best friend.

I push for meetings; I advocate and sometimes fight for the therapeutic services he needs.  I am a lawyer.

Of course – I schlep them to school, play dates, doctor’s appointments, classes…I am a bus driver.

Running around trying to put Lady’s wild hair into a more manageable ponytail, I am a hairdresser to the stars!

New toys need to be built and old toys need to be fixed. I am a carpenter.  (Who am I kidding, my husband fills that role.)

I pick out their clothes and make them look cute, or at least make sure their bodies are covered before we leave the house.  I am a stylist.

Man wants to throw a ball; put me in coach, I’m ready to play. I’m Derek Jeter.

He dives under the bedcovers so we can “search for bears”—I am a park ranger.

When I assist in his “experiments” and we end up laughing while the floor gets soaked and your clothes get filthy, I am a mad scientist.

Man steadfastly refuses to carry his dinner dishes from the table – apparently I am a busboy.

They step out of line – I’m a prison guard on Oz.

At the end of the day, I am their mom.

 

Mom to Lady

Mom to Lady

Mom to Man

Mom to Man

5 thoughts on “Some People Call Me a Space Cowboy

  1. Pingback: Ode to Mamas Everywhere | FIND YOUR THRIVE.

  2. This is so true! We are everything to our little ones. It is the toughest, most rewarding, worthwhile job and until you are actually in the thick of it (or in your case, the mess of it) you do not know it!

  3. Pingback: This Lady Sucks: Fanning The Flames Of The Mommy Wars | Man vs Mommy

  4. Pingback: This Lady Sucks: Fanning The Flames Of The Mommy Wars -

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