ok now……before you go riding off on the crazy train visualizing some titillating image…..my dirty little secret has absolutely nothing to do with being horizontal….erase the visual from your brain….go ahead….I’ll wait!  (((Taps foot impatiently)))

 

*** Before you read any further, please note that there are several links to PAST blogs enclosed in THIS blog….because…well, I’m shamelessly plugging my crap tonight AND they are relevant to this story ***

I am a momma about to confess something of epic proportions. I am both saddened and ashamed simultaneously.  I am a momma who is dealing with a powerful surge of emotions, each begging for an outlet.

Up until, LITERALLY, fifteen minutes ago, my three-year old was still drinking a bottle on the regular.  I know, this may not be the amazing revelation you suspected it might be, given my history of revealing far too many scandalous details about EVERYTHING.  But I have to be honest……I’m a little amazed that it’s gone on this long.  I always swore I’d be “THAT TOUGH MOM”, the one who couldn’t be bowled over by adorable pouty lips and the incessant whimpering of my kid trying to get his way.

I once wrote a blog about the sleeping arrangements in our house (no, not THAT BLOG about sleeping arrangements that made “that guy” go fucking bananas and made me FB single and now “married” to Jason Statham….congratulations to US)….I wrote how once I found myself admitting to others that my penis people STILL sleep in my Goddamn bed every Goddamn night, an amazing sequence of events would occur…..OTHER parents would sigh and smile sheepishly and admit they were doing the same thing.  It was pretty awesome to know that I WASN’T THE ONLY ONE.  Anyway, the blog was about a lot of cool shit and lotso hi-fucking-larious details and you can read the blog about musical beds here.

Anyway….this time around….I was prepared to actually BE the only one.  I’ve lied to everyone for a million trillion months about this now…..to the pediatrician…..to wee penis person’s speech therapist……to strangers even.  I generally just play it cool and PRETEND that wee penis person ISN’T asking for a bubba when he CLEARLY IS.  When I get that quizzical stare from a fellow mom, I lie my ASS OFF and pretend he’s just confused……”Silly Joshua…..YOU don’t drink BUBBAS”.  And then I promptly ignored his very confused expression and his adorable pouty lips and incessant whimpering.  Fear not, I would always make it up to him later…..with not ONE bubba, but two….and maybe even three.  I was nothing if not consistently inconsistent.

And while I tossed those bubbas away tonight and bid farewell to one more chapter in my wonderful life of mommyhood, I was quite literally dumb struck with emotion.  This is, to be certain, my last “baby”.   As previously mentioned in the blog Super Duper Birth Control is Super Duper Important, I’m not the least bit interested in birthing another child.  I’m insanely happy (yes…insane is positively THE most correct word here) with the two penis people I have.  However,  I find myself trying desperately to hold on to these last moments of babyhood that still remain in the wee penis person.  I still rock wee penis person to sleep any time he’ll let me.  I carry him to bed, snuggled in my arms, every time he asks.  With his speech issues, he still babbles sometimes….and if I close my eyes briefly, I can nearly pretend that he’s still much younger than he is.  Oddly perverse?? YEP!  But again, I will take a moment to remind you that I have NEVER EVER promised you I will always be “normal”.

I think, as moms, we must grieve this moment…….this moment when we officially and definitively realize that our “baby” is our last baby.  It came too soon and too suddenly.  Just yesterday I was holding wee penis person’s bottle for him, he…far too new to this world to manage it on his own.  Now…..that little shit can practically pour his own drinks.

And so, I bid a fond farewell to this chapter of babyhood.  I will miss it fervently and be sure to take the proper time to take a deep breath and mourn appropriately.  And then…..I will tackle eradicating that shitty paci from wee penis person’s life….because, as I’ve discovered, there is no Paci Rehab, though I’ve tried desperately to locate one!

Advertisements