Much like my junior high and high school experience, motherhood has involved me spending my every waking moment thinking about a guy who has no idea what my name is...until today! I've been sick all week with some kind of weird laryngitis-y cold that seemed to get worse last night. I told Brad that if I didn't get to sleep in for once I was going to seriously lose my mind. Note for you non-parents that "sleeping in" is nothing like it was back in our pre-Tate days when we had blissful, uninterrupted sleep until noon on the weekends if we wanted it. Now it means waking up at 7something a.m., going back to sleep with a pillow over your head, and being roused into semi-wakefulness every 15 minutes by the muffled sounds of your spouse dealing with varying degrees of mayhem.
Anyway, after a couple hours of super-nonrestful sleep I opened the bedroom door and heard Tate call "Mom" from the living room. I was so excited that he said my name for the first time that I picked him up and started jumping up and down like a crazy person. And once he saw how excited I was he started laughing and repeating "Mom" over and over again, which led to more jumping up and down and laughing. It was seriously the best morning ever. Not to mention that while I was asleep Brad answered a text on my phone and made a brunch date for me with my friend Beth.
As I was getting ready I looked in the mirror and realized that I'm the person is who Tate is going to forever associate with the word "Mom." It was very cool, scary, and humbling all at the same time. I also thought that Tate's Mom looks like a hot mess much of the time these days. Sorry, kid.
