Why I Should Be Your Mother

My friend "M" is about to be a mother. I'm so excited about her baby shower. She is adopting a little girl from Ethiopia. 

Thinking about "M" reminds me of my firsts as a new mother. I didn't have a lot of confidence. I compared myself a lot with others until I finally realized that I was hand-picked to be Morgan's mother. 

This is a crazy conversation I made up in my head about accepting motherhood.

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Child to be: "So, I see here from your resumé that you have no experience as a mother."

Me: "Correct. No experience."

Child to be: "Any experience as a nurse?"

Me: "Um, no."

Child to be: "Preschool teacher?"

Me: (Agitated.) "No. And while we're at it, I wasn't Mar*tha Stewart or Big B*ird."

Child to be: (Sitting back in chair): "Okay, You have no real qualifications. Why do you want to be a mother?"

Me: "Does everyone have to go through this interview? This is clearly not what I had in mind. The Baby Gap ads lead me to believe this would be a little more fun."

Child to be: (Nonplussed)  "This conversation is purely from your imagination so enough with the small talk. Pony up the info."

Me: (Thinking) "Okay, I can sew a little."

Child to be: "I'm listening."

Me: "And cook. I can cook, too. Do you like Chicken Cordon Bleu?"

Child to be: "Maybe. Sounds fancy. How do you feel about interruptions?"

Me: "Um, well, I don't like them."

Child to be: "Dirty clothes?"

Me: "(Sarcastic) They're wonderful. Where is this conversation going?"

Child to be: "Give me your day planner there."

Me:"My what? (Hesitant.)"

Child to be: "Day planner. Fork it over."

Me: "Um, okay, what are you going to..."

Child to be: "How would you feel if I poured my bottle all over it?"

Me: "Please don't." 

Child to be: "I wish I could stop, but I really can't help myself. It looks important. I know when things look important." 

Me: "My passport is in there."

Child to be: "Well, you might want to call for a new one because now your name is too blurry to read. I guess passports don't like to be wet." 

Now there is a stare-down... Child is smirking and cross-armed. I am holding my best poker face. 

Me: "You know, your dimples are really cute when you scowl."

Child to be:"My what?"

Me: "Your dimples. They look like your father's. And that way you raise one eyebrow... also like your father."

Child to be: "That has nothing to do with..."

Me: "And the way you hold pencils... I do the SAME thing. They'll try to unteach you in kindergarten, but I'm pretty sure you'll be too stubborn to listen."

Child to be: "So?"

Me: "So? Listen, kiddo... I may not have a perfect calendar with carefully thought out preschool-appropriate games and crafts. I may not feed you organic kumquats imported from South America. And chances are good that your clothes and mine will be stained for the next ten years but... what matters most is not the clock or trends or appearances. What matters is that you were put in my life. I may be far from perfect but I'm the perfect mother for you."

Child to be: "Is that so?"

Me: "Yep. Hand chosen. You're mine."

Child is pondering...

Child to be: "Well, I guess that's alright with me."

Me: "Good. Now come over here and give me a hug, you rascal."