Officially, I became a mom on March 21st, 1998.
In reality, I'm still an utterly clueless individual who's trying to figure out things as she goes along. So far, it's worked out okay. By okay, I mean that no one has ever called CPS on me. That I know of. But honestly, I'm frequently amazed at how much I have left to learn.
Last night when Boy Child gets a nosebleed, what do I do?
"OH MY GOD! YOUR NOSE IS GUSHING BLOOD! DID YOU HIT YOUR FACE ON A BRICK WALL OR SOMETHING?!?!?!"
Then, predictably, boy child begins to panic. Because, you know, when the person who pays the mortgage doesn't know what the crap to do, then there might be a problem.
Quickly, I say:
"Um, I mean...it's not so bad?"
Boy child rolled his eyes at me and went into the bathroom calling over his shoulder, "I'm going to get some toilet paper now."
I followed him in. He sat on the toilet and I sat on the basket of dirty towels (do towels really get dirty? I mean, we just use them to dry off after we shower. I presume we are clean once we get out of the shower, yes?) in front of him.
A flash of brilliance came to me!
"I'll go get the peanut butter!" I proclaimed.
"No thanks," said Boy Child. "I'm not really hungry."
"I think peanut butter stops nosebleeds though," I said.
Boy Child looked at me skeptically.
"Oh, no wait. It stops hiccups. I think."
Boy child began to laugh. Presumably at my stupidity.
I said, "Never mind. I suck at this being a mom thing."
Boy child said, very thoughtfully, "No, no. You're a good mom. You're the nicest mom ever. Even though you say lots and lots and lots and lots of bad words."
"Awww...thanks," I responded.
"Also, you're bad at math," he went on.
"Okay, Boy Child, I think I get it-"
"And your science skills are questionable!" called Girl Child, from the hall where she was listening in.
I sat silently, on top of a pile of wet towels, trying not to laugh.
Boy Child looked at me earnestly and said, "But really, really, really. You're a good mom."
That's good enough for me.