I don’t know about all the other mothers out there, but I sure do love being one.
Each day, the gift of motherhood becomes more and more powerful and consuming. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I love Jack even more today than I did when he was born.
It’s as if a piece of life’s puzzle has appeared and made the picture a little more clearer.
It’s as if my heart is going to burst.
And what’s more incredible to me is that I am someone’s “Mama”.
His mama.
To those who know me in general, I’m “Lisa”. A 25 year old married lifelong South Carolinian with a barely there occassionally-heavy southern twang.
At my parent’s house, I’m known as Lisa-Bug, their obstinate, slightly messy (probably due to the fact I never cleaned my room as a teen), wear-her-feelings-on-her-sleeve, loveable only child.
In school, I was known as the shy, brainiac, slightly nerdy, never-talked, teacher’s pet.
To my husband’s New York family, I’m known as “Lisa”, the girl they met only a few days before Kevin and I married.
To my husband I’m known as…(ok well, I can’t write that on my son’s blog)..
But to Jack-Evan?
I’m known as Mom. Mommy. Mama. Mother. The caring, doting, adoring, sings-off-key maternal figure of home.
Not Lisa. Not Lisa-Bug. Not girl-I-went-to-school-with.
He won’t ever care what grades I made or my previous accomplishments. He may even carry the slightly off-kilter belief that I myself wasn’t born until the day he was.
Forever and eternity he will always see me in his mind and memories as Mom.
And that is just the most magnificent, unbelievable feeling in the world.
